


Body Double

by lokilickedme



Category: British Actor RPF, Crimson Peak (2015), Thomas Sharpe - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: 15 months later we finally reach the end, Abstinence, Accidental Orgasm, Accidental Relationship, Accidental Stimulation, Affection, Airplane Sex, Amsterdam, Angst and Feels, Attempted Murder, Bed Sex, Bedroom Sex, Car Sex, Caregiving, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Dominance, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Recovery, Emotional Sex, Emotionally Repressed, Erotica, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Fertility Issues, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Fucking, Gentle Sex, Happy Ending, Healing, Honeymoon, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Inappropriate Erections, Internal Conflict, Kink Exploration, Kinky, Light Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, Love, Makeup Sex, Making Love, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mild Kink, Mile High Club, Mutual Masturbation, Nudity, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Phone Sex, Physical hurt/comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Psychological Trauma, Public Display of Affection, Recovery, Requited Love, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rough Sex, Scandal, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Acceptance, Self-Esteem Issues, Semi-Public Sex, Separation Anxiety, Separations, Sex, Sexist Language, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Spanking, Tender Sex, Tenderness, Touching, Travel, True Love, Vaginal Fingering, Wall Sex, bra fetish, delayed intercourse, learning to love yourself, mention of foursomes, mention of miscarriage, mention of threesomes, overcoming your past, public fingering, return of Dom!Tom, return of the ex, simulated sexual assault, skinnydipping, spanking as therapy, the banana story, they finally did it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-03-30 11:57:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 143,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3935923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokilickedme/pseuds/lokilickedme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Body doubling for a famous actress in a movie is a good job if you can get it.  Body doubling for a famous actress in a movie with Tom Hiddleston is another thing entirely - especially when the movie has a lot of kinky sex scenes, the famous actress is too shy to strip, and you're required to do it ALL.  </p><p>AU actor!Tom, inspired in part by the new Crimson Peak trailer that hit today.  So SO much smut here.</p><p>(This story is based closely on the CP movie set, but with movie details and actor/director names changed just slightly so you know who they're meant to be without me using their real names.  Tom is the only one whose name isn't changed.)</p><p>8/25/2016 - THANK YOU EVERYONE THAT STUCK IT OUT TILL THE END!  Tom and Anna have finally reached their final chapter, and what a bittersweet ride it's been.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart for hanging in there through thick and thin with me (and them!)</p><p>Chapter 39 is the final chapter, but I decided to toss in a chapter 40 at the last minute, just to give you some pretty pics of the pair to look at as you say farewell.</p><p>ENJOY!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

"Do you have any boundaries?"  He looked at me expectantly, all business, totally professional but still with those sweet smiling eyes.  "If you do, let me know now - I'll respect any limits you have, I won't cross any lines."  He looked out the window to see if the rain had started yet.  "I don't have any, so you can do anything you want to me," he added as an afterthought.

The makeup lady looked up with a cocked eyebrow from her position in front of me.  She was dabbing concealer on a bruise just above my knee.  "I think I'm good," I replied, hiding my face in my coffee cup. "We're just doing a straight sex scene, is that right?"

"Yes, fairly straightforward.  Although Benecio told me to run with whatever feels right at the moment."  He averted his eyes while the makeup lady moved my robe aside to check higher up my thighs for marks.  I was embarrassed that she kept finding so many things that needed to be covered up.  "Are you okay with that?  Spontaneity?"

I thought it funny - in a cute way - that Mr Hiddleston looked away every time my robe had to be moved.  In less than an hour we would be in bed together, completely naked, simulating rough sex.  Yet still he was so much the gentleman that he wouldn't look at me while anything more than my knees were exposed.  "I think I can handle that," I replied.  I couldn't really think of anything else to say.  He smiled, a wonderfully gentle smile that calmed my nerves and made me feel at ease.  He was already in costume and makeup, looking very Victorian in a disturbingly dark, sexy sort of way.

"Good," he said, reaching out to touch the sleeve of my robe.  "Just let me know if anything makes you uncomfortable."

 

He left for the set after that, which I was thankful for because my robe had to come off for the makeup lady to inspect my other bits and parts for bruises and imperfections.  There's not much more undignified than standing spread-eagled while a drama school major kneels between your legs dabbing flesh paint on your buttcheeks.  It wasn't my best moment.

But when it was done, I had to admit I looked pretty good.

"There's a reason you were hired for this job," the makeup lady commented as she touched up a few freckles and sunspots across my shoulders.  "But your perfect complexion wasn't it."

I nodded in agreement.  She was right - I had a decent shape, but good skin had to be faked.  "And _that's_ the reason _you_ were hired for _this_ job," I jibed back at her.  She laughed, shrugging.

"From what I understand, we're going to be seeing a lot of each other for the next couple of weeks."

 

Mr Hiddleston was on the set, deep in discussion with the director when I arrived.  Neither of them looked at me as the assistant moved me into position, instructing me as to how I was to lay on the big Victorian bed.  I let her move my arms and legs the way the script dictated, listening carefully to her directions until Tom came and sat down on the edge of the bed, flashing me one of those wonderful warm smiles of his. I'd seen a few, mostly aimed at other people, but now he had one for me.  It was calming, and the butterflies in my stomach settled a bit.

"Doing alright darling?" he asked me quietly as the sound guys started shushing people and making final adjustments on the equipment that was hanging around us.  I nodded and he averted his eyes politely as the wardrobe assistant had me sit up to remove my robe.  I was completely naked under it, and shaking so hard now that the moment of truth had arrived.  I lay back on the bed in the same position I'd been in, and closed my eyes.

"You'll do fine, sweetheart," I heard him whisper as the director called for the all-quiet.  "Just follow my lead and do what comes naturally."

 

I did as I was told and acted natural, even though a movie set is about the least natural setting you could ever imagine for sex.  There were people all around us - though it was a closed set at Mr Hiddleston's request, so the numbers were kept to an absolute minimum - and it was hard to ignore the various cameras and microphones shoved at us from all sides.  But once the director called action and we started our pretend lovemaking, everything around us seemed to fade away for a few moments.  He reached out and touched me, his hand warm and strong, sliding slowly up my stomach to my bare breast, where he caressed me gently for a moment before standing to undress himself.  When he lay down on top of me and I felt his long, lean body, completely naked and pressing down against me, my nervousness left me entirely and I started to respond to his touches and kisses with fervor.  I'd been instructed to "react with abandon".  Remembering that he'd told me he had no boundaries, I let my hands glide over him, sliding slowly down his bare back to his behind, where I gripped him firmly with both hands.  I heard his breath catch in his throat next to my ear where he was nuzzling me, and in the next moment I felt him grow stiff against my stomach.  

His moan against my ear sounded all too real as the lighting guy called for a cut to readjust some filters.  

"You two stay put," we were instructed; Tom lifted his head just enough to look at me and I saw the beginning of a slightly embarrassed smile tugging at his lips.

"Sorry about that," he whispered.  "You took me a bit by surprise."

I tried to lay perfectly still beneath him, but I could still feel his erection poking me in the stomach.  "You said to do whatever came naturally," I whispered back.  "Was that too natural?"

He chuckled softly.  "There's no such thing as too natural...except maybe..."  He glanced down between us.  "Except maybe _my_ reaction."

 

When the director resumed filming, we continued as if nothing had happened, but his erection didn't go away and by the time we were finished I felt distinctly warm and fluttery in the pit of my stomach.  When final cut was called, we extricated ourselves from around and under each other and sat up, wrapping ourselves in the oversized robes the wardrobe girl handed us.  I was escorted off the set, replaced by the actress whose body I was filling in for, but as I exited I glanced back at Mr Hiddleston, who was still sitting on the edge of the bed with his hands folded on his upper thighs.

He was smiling at me, that same warm smile he'd given me earlier to calm me.  Only this time he quirked an eyebrow up and tipped his head down, motioning toward his lap.  

I had to laugh.

 

I returned to my trailer and immediately got in the shower to wash off the body makeup; it felt sticky and cloying on my skin, but mostly I felt the need to cool down.  The fluttery feeling was still tickling in my stomach and I couldn't forget the undeniably overpowering sensation of _maleness_ from his cock, so hard and heated, pushing against me as we finished our scene.  His breathing had been ragged and labored on my throat, undoubtedly convincing for the cameras.  But he and I both knew it wasn't acting.  There had been no climax in our script, no satisfying finish for our characters, as that part was to be filmed at a later date...but as the warm water rushed over me and my hand slowly snaked down between my legs, I decided I'd earned one for myself.

I wondered if he would do the same.

 

 

_To be continued..._

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

In the morning, I stumbled out of my trailer in search of coffee to carry me to the early set call and was almost run over by Mr Hiddleston on his morning run.  He always flew past my trailer in a blur of baggy sweats and iPod tunes, but today he stopped to catch his breath outside my door as I was stepping out into the too-bright sunlight with my script and a battered copy of The Night Manager.  He took the book from my hands and grinned broadly as I squinted at him.

"Good book," he commented, handing it back.  He had a glimmer in his eyes that made his whole face seem like he was sharing an amusing secret, but I didn't want to think about what it might be.  I suddenly felt embarrassed that I'd caused his professionalism to break down enough to allow an on-set boner, when all I'd ever heard about him was how topnotch and businesslike his behavior was.  I thought for sure he'd be mad at me for messing that up with my own inexperience.  But he didn't seem to be.  If anything, he seemed happy to see me.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," I caught myself saying out of the blue.  He seemed momentarily taken aback, but the smile never left his face.  He leaned against my trailer and fiddled with his iPod for a moment.  

"Don't be," he finally said.  "It happens - I would hardly be human if it didn't."  His eyes swept over me briefly, just for a moment, before they settled on my face again with that same warm smile that he'd been so generous with the previous day.  "You just happened to stumble across one of my...weak spots."  He licked his lips during the pause and I felt that fluttery warm sensation in my stomach again.  His smile widened, taking on a decidedly mischievous glint.  "Maybe I'll be lucky enough to hit one of yours and we'll be even."

I laughed a little, despite not really being amused.  I was a little bit freaked out, to be honest.  Was he messing with me?

"Good luck with that," I said over my shoulder as I turned to resume my walk to the commissary for coffee.  "We have set call in about an hour."

He stayed where he was, leaning against my trailer, watching me as I walked away.  

"I look forward to it."

 

 An hour later I was sitting in the big Victorian bed on set with my coffee when we were joined by Mr Hiddleston, in full costume and looking every inch the dark, brooding, menacing character he was portraying.  With a wicked half grin he took my cup and, after a belated "May I?", downed a long swallow.

His demeanor changed as we settled in to begin filming our scene.  He started with the same reassuring smile and words of encouragement as the previous day, but once the cameras started rolling, his touch became urgent, his kisses less gentle, more forceful.  I knew from the script that his character was meant to become darker and more frightening as the story progressed, but nobody had told me if we were skipping ahead in the progression.  I went along with it, following his lead the way he'd told me to, and when the director ordered "Intensity!" we started tearing at each other with abandon.  

Tom's hands were suddenly all over me, stroking roughly and caressing with a dominance that shook my nerves.  I tried to keep up, wanting to impress him with my professionalism to make up for my inexperience from the previous day, but soon he had my legs up and was thrusting between them with a virile ferocity that took my breath away.  All I could think to do was to hold on, so I did - his shoulders were slicked with sweat already and my fingers kept slipping, so I slid them down to his hips and gripped him tightly.  His moan against my throat was convincingly real again and before I had a chance to think about what I was doing, I let my hands roam lower to his ass and dug my fingers into his cheeks.

His back arched suddenly and I felt his teeth dig into my neck.  I cried out a little in surprise and the director yelled "More of that!" as Tom lifted his head and looked me in the eyes.  The expression on his face said _This is war_  - and I knew I was in trouble.

He immediately lowered his head to my breast and sucked hard at my nipple.  I heard a quiet chuckle come from him as I groaned in delicious agony - he'd found my weak spot, and now thanks to my inability to keep quiet, he knew it.  He lapped at me with his tongue and toyed with me, pushing me back down when I arched up against him, while the director urged us to keep going.

_Two can play at this._

He had shifted down to reach my breasts, so I could no longer reach his backside - he's probably a foot and a half taller than me, so he definitely had the advantage when it came to moving things out of reach. So I improvised, pushing against him till I'd succeeded in raising my back off the bed to a half sitting position under him.  He moved to allow it, bowing his back upward so he could still lick and bite at my chest.  While he was distracted with the task of tormenting my breasts, I slipped my hands around to his front and slid them slowly down his bare stomach.

A half strangled _unngh_ sound came from his throat when my fingertips reached his pubic bone and moved quickly lower, just barely touching the base of his cock.  He was doing a much better job today of keeping the monster leashed, but I was determined to change that - he was making me unbearably wet with his mouth on my nipples, so I was going to retaliate and make him hard.

But I hesitated, unsure if I was going too far.  

And then the director called for a cut to make some set adjustments, and we were left holding our position like two children playing a naughty game of freeze tag.

His eyes burned into mine, but there was an amusement behind them and he grinned at me while the director and his assistant moved around us, ignoring us as if we weren't there while they discussed some changes in the background.  

"Are you okay?" he asked after a moment.  His voice sounded a bit strained, and I noticed the ligaments across his shoulders were tensed.  I nodded.  "Keep going," he whispered to me.  "You're doing great."

 

When action was called again, Tom doubled his aggression, putting an arm across my stomach to throw me back down onto the bed.  He pinned me with his hands on both sides of my ribcage, kissing downward from my neck to my belly, bringing his hands down to push my legs apart as his lips moved hotly over my hip and down one thigh.  I could barely breathe; it felt so real, so fevered and impassioned, and when his hand brushed lightly over the bare mound between my thighs, I sucked in my breath as though I was dying for air.

He looked up from where he was nibbling at my inner thigh and locked eyes with me.  There was a devilish glint sparkling there and it was obvious they'd hired the right actor for this job.  The intensity with which he'd switched gears was dizzying yet seamless and I found myself wondering how much of this was acting and how much was really Tom.  Was the bitemark he'd just left on the soft flesh on the inside of my leg something he would do, or was it the character he was playing?

There was a question in his eyes though - a gently imploring look that asked _Is this okay?_

I moved my hand down to touch him but he was too far down, between my knees now, and I couldn't reach him.  I let my hand fall to my hip and he reached up to take it, moving it over between my legs, and without thinking about what I was doing I gripped myself tightly.  From his vantage point at my knees he had a straightline view of my crotch and his expression shifted, his eyes locked intently to my fingers as I pressed them hard against my embarrassingly wet bare pussy.  He licked his lips and I knew he and I were both thinking the same thing - his mouth, my cunt, what could possibly go wrong.

I groaned and arched my back to tease him, bringing my knees up on either side of his head as he momentarily lost his concentration and just watched.  

Benicio chose that moment to call cut for the day.

He praised our performances and sequestered himself quickly into his viewing booth to go over the footage with his assistant while Tom and I put ourselves back together.  I felt shaky and anxious and more than just a little bit shy about what had just happened.  Tom took my robe from the wardrobe girl and wrapped it around me, squeezing my shoulders as he scooted next to me on the edge of the bed.

"That was brilliant," he said, leaning against me as he pulled his own robe on.  He seemed more than just a little bit anxious himself.  "Have you noticed he hasn't called once for a retake?"

I nodded.  "What does that mean?"

"It means he's been happy with everything we've shot so far, it's all been good.  He's leaving the cameras running for longer stretches, so he'll probably use extemporaneous footage that wasn't scripted instead of having us do certain shots over and over until they're perfect."

None of what he'd said made much sense to me, so I just smiled and tugged my robe tighter around myself.  I noticed his look softened and he rubbed his hand up and down on my back.  "This will all be old hat to you in a week or so," he assured me.  "It's a bit overwhelming at first, but you're doing really well."

The glint in his eyes had returned.  He leaned in till his face was close to mine and whispered "And now if you'll excuse me, I could really use a nice chilly shower."  He grinned, a wide devious smile that suggested a million things, all of them naughty.  "Care to join me?"

I have to admit I considered it.  But Benicio was motioning for me to come to the booth, so I had to regretfully decline.  As I stood and tied my robe shut, I glanced down at Tom and noticed his hands were folded over his lap again.  I felt a little bit of victory knowing that I'd hit him hard in the professionalism once again; but it was a hollow victory, because his eyes closed and he inhaled deeply, leaning toward the general vicinity of my lower stomach as I turned.  I knew he could smell my arousal by the serene look on his face.

He winked at me as he leaned back, lacing his fingers over the now obvious bulge in his lap.

"It would seem we're even."

 

 

_To be continued..._

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

I had the next two days off, but I saw from the call sheet posted in the commissary that Tom was on the schedule for nine hours each day at another location.  I was a little disappointed that we couldn't continue our game of tormenting each other, but the two days off were a nice break, and I spent them doing some wandering around the city.  It was late Fall and it had already snowed a couple of times, with icy patches still scattered here and there on the roadways and sidewalks, and in my clumsiness I managed to slip and fall flat on my butt on a curb while trying to cross the street.   _Oh the makeup lady is really going to appreciate this_ I chastised myself as I brushed the wet leaves off my backside.  I bruise easy and it was a hard, uneven fall.  

On Wednesday I was back in the makeup trailer for my next call, getting my usual touchups and enhancements when Tom came in to discuss the scene with me.  I was standing on a step stool in my robe while Janette complimented me on the lack of new bruises on my legs; I smiled nervously, knowing her tune was going to change drastically once she got to my rear end, but I didn't have time to think about it because Tom was showing me the script page and asking me my opinion on how to handle the spanking segment.

"Spanking?"  

He nodded and held the page up.  "Sir William bends Brienne across the bed, baring her backside as he punishes her with a brutal barehanded spanking."

"Oh shit."

He raised an eyebrow at me.  "Is this a trigger I should know about?" he asked, his voice sounding suddenly concerned.  I shook my head, but I knew my face was telling a different story entirely.  He paused a moment, then turned to the makeup lady.

"Janette, darling, would you mind excusing us for a moment?"

Janette got up off her knees and checked her watch.  "Two hours till set call and she still has to go to wardrobe, remember," she reminded us as she set her gear on the table and exited the trailer to give us some privacy.

Tom took me by the hands and helped me down off the step stool.

"Now what's this about, sweetheart?" he asked me gently.  "Is it going to be a problem for you?  I can talk to Benicio if we need to change something, he's generally easy to - "

"No, no, it's okay," I cut him off, feeling silly that he was so worried about me.  "It's not a problem, really.  They just don't give me script pages so I never really know what we're going to be doing until we get there."  I was hesitant to tell him my backside already looked like I'd taken a good beating.

He didn't look convinced.  He was giving me a look that could make the Pope perjure himself and I finally broke, my hands going to the back of my robe to cover my rear.  "I sort of had an accident yesterday on the ice."  His look turned to surprise.

"Are you okay?  Did you have the set doctor check you out?"

"No, it's not bad."

"You should let him look at you anyway."

"No, I'd really rather not.  It's kind of...embarrassing."

He looked confused, but noticed I had my hands crossed over my backside like I was hiding something.

"What have you done to yourself?" he asked, a slow grin starting to pull at the corners of his mouth.  He reached around behind me and took me by the wrist to pull my hands away, but I stepped out of his reach.

"I kinda landed on my butt, okay?  Janette's going to have a fit when she sees it."

"Let me see."

"No way!"

"Oh come on - _'Sir William bends Brienne across the bed, baring her backside as he punishes her with a brutal barehanded spanking'._  That's what's about to go down, sweetheart...if you're shy about showing me your arse, now's the time to get over it!"

I sighed.  He was right, of course.  But we were alone, in the makeup trailer by ourselves, just the two of us - it felt different than it did when we were surrounded by stage hands, lighting men, sound crews and various set personnel.  I felt completely, embarrassingly shy.

He reached for me and I didn't move away this time.  "Come on then, lets have a look."  He pulled me gently toward him and turned me around, slowly lifting the back of my robe.  I closed my eyes as I felt his hand very lightly on my back, holding the fabric out of the way.  "Holy shit."

"Yeah...I told you."

"Darling, your bottom is black and blue.  You look like I've already spanked you."

"I know.  I can't even see it but I can tell it's not good."

"Does it hurt?"

I nodded, my eyes still closed.  It made it easier knowing that he was looking at me if I couldn't see him doing it.

And then I felt his hand slide very gently across my bottom.

"Poor sweet little bum."  He was rubbing me now, very lightly, and a sigh escaped my lips.  "Is there anything I can do to make it feel better?"

A dozen options crossed my mind, but all I could get to come out was, "Maybe have them reschedule the spanking?"

He laughed softly, letting my robe fall back into place.

"I'll see what I can do."

 

My ass beating was moved to Friday, which gave me two days to obsess over it.  In its place, Tom and I were assigned a different scene, one that thankfully didn't include my backside being on display or abused.  But it did include some realistic fucking without any foreplay, which we had already filmed, and when I arrived on set I was immediately ushered onto the bed and positioned in a very undignified pose of complete submission.  Tom came in, spoke with the assistant director for a few moments, then my modesty sheet was removed and he climbed on top of me.  He immediately sighed and melted against me, his face nuzzling in against my neck and his arms slipping under me to cradle me against him.  He was heavy enough to crush the breath out of me, but he supported himself on his arms just enough to keep the majority of his weight off my body while we waited for the director to start the scene.  It seemed to take forever while they readjusted a light, fussing over shadows and angles, and during those long moments he gently sucked at the side of my neck, relaxing me, alternating soft kisses with almost inaudible whispers against my skin.

But when the scene started, he became Sir William, and the tenderness was replaced with a predatory ferocity that was startling as he began simulating the brutal, almost nonconsensual sex that had been scripted for us.  I'd been warned that this was coming, but I still wasn't completely prepared for the intensity that he was capable of portraying; it was more like an assault than lovemaking, and I was supposed to play the powerless victim, helpless against the onslaught of violent passion from a man who was slowly slipping into darkness.  I lay still under him and let him take his lust out on me, or rather let him _act_ like he was taking his lust out on me...everything always seemed so real with him, his acting was always so seamless, transitionless, it was almost impossible to separate him from his character once the cameras started humming.

When it was over, I felt bruised and violated, but I knew that only meant he'd done his job well.  

 

I left the set immediately once I was excused and made my way back to my trailer on shaky legs.  The shower couldn't get hot enough to suit me as I stood there trembling, letting the scalding water pour over me, trying to wash away the unsettling feeling that was gnawing away in my belly; I'd never been so aroused in my life, and it didn't feel right.  The scene we'd just filmed was barely a step away from domestic abuse, and the intense longing he had stirred in me as his character brutalized mine seemed almost like a betrayal by my own body.  My feelings confused me.  I wasn't sure I liked it, but one thing I was certain of - nobody had ever gotten me as wet as Tom did when he was sucking at my throat before the scene began.  His whispered words made sense now.   _I'm sorry for this, darling...stop me if it's too much._

Over the noisy spray of the shower, I heard a knocking on the outside of my trailer.  I turned off the water and listened.

"Anna, are you okay?"

Tom.  He was outside, come to check on me.  

"I'm okay."

A pause.  "Are you sure, sweetheart?  You left so quickly."  Another pause; I hoped his next words would be _have a good night, see you tomorrow_...but they weren't.

"Can I come in?"

I didn't answer.

"I'm coming in...unless you tell me right now not to."

I kept quiet, my eyes closed tight.  I still felt shaky and hot and I absolutely didn't want him near me, but I didn't say anything.  I heard the door open and close, then a soft knock on the bathroom door.  "Are you dressed?"

I finally responded, but still kept my eyes closed, standing in the shower with my hands against the wall to hold myself up.  It was funny that he would be concerned about whether or not I was dressed after the scene we'd just shot together.  "No," I said quietly.  There was a long pause, then I heard the door open just a bit.

"I'm coming in, okay darling?"

He didn't wait for my affirmation; I think at this point he was worried something was terribly wrong, and he came to me quickly, wrapping my robe around me and guiding me out of the shower.  He didn't speak again until he'd gotten me to the sofa and sat me down, fetching me a bottled water from the fridge and getting a towel to sop some of the water dripping from my hair.  He sat across from me and just watched my face for a while.  

I eventually met eyes with him and smiled, a bit forced but not completely insincere.  "I'm okay," I assured him.  His eyes looked so incredibly blue in the sunlight breaking in through the shades; I could see the little golden flecks just above his pupils.  His face bore a worried expression, and I suddenly realized his hands were on my knees, his thumbs rubbing circles against my bare skin.  It felt nice, comforting and somehow safe.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I did but I didn't.  I didn't know _what_ I needed to talk about, to be honest.  I had no idea what was wrong with me, but when I opened my mouth to reaffirm my general wellbeing, something else entirely came out of my mouth.

"It's just been a really long time since anybody touched me...I guess I've gotten out of the habit of being handled - "

His face flinched and I stopped talking.  I was about to say _that way_ but found myself unable to form the words.  It was obvious by his expression that he knew what I wasn't saying.

"You were in an abusive relationship."

At that moment, for the first time, I realized I had been.

He was silent for a long time, then he moved next to me and leaned back, laying his arm over the back of the sofa, not touching me.  After a while I sat back too, and he waited until I leaned into him before he brought his arm down to my shoulders to give me a protective squeeze.  He kissed the top of my head and whispered, "It'll be okay.  You're safe."

He reached over and got my book from the side table and opened it.

"On a snow-swept January evening of 1991, Jonathan Pine, the English night manager of the Hotel Meister Palace in Zurich, forsook his office behind the reception desk and, in the grip of feelings he had not known before, took up his position in the lobby as a prelude to extending his hotel's welcome to a distinguished late arrival..."

 

 

_To be continued..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Passage from The Night Manager by John LeCarre, copyright 1993 by David Cornwell


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

He read to me until nightfall when we both started to get hungry.  The unsettled feeling in my gut had finally calmed and my mood was considerably better; we discussed the upcoming spanking scene over dinner in the commissary, much to the disapproval of people sitting nearby who could hear everything we said.  We raised our voices slightly to make sure they got all the details, and every time someone got up to leave or move to another table we ordered another beer.

By the time we finished our grilled chicken sandwiches, I was pretty much sloshed and Tom was well on his way.

We stumbled back to my trailer, singing some insane song that we were making up verse by verse as we went, and when we arrived we were both laughing uncontrollably.  He followed me inside and we fell onto the sofa, giggling.

"I really, _really_ want to spend the night with you," he said with a loopy grin.  "And if I weren't drunk and you weren't drunk, I think I would try to make it happen."

I touched his lips with my fingertip.  "You are such a gentleman."

"Yeah, you'll be thinking that tomorrow when my hand is on your arse."

 

Our set call wasn't until 12:30 the following afternoon, so I spent all morning recovering from our beer binge and obsessing over the upcoming scene.  He had shown me the script page so I knew how it was laid out, but Benicio was famous for allowing his actors leeway to improvise.  I figured if anything was going to be altered from what was written, it would be Tom changing it to be less violent.  What he didn't realize was that my nervousness wasn't about the physical abuse the act embodied - it was about the warm, disturbingly aroused feeling I got from just thinking about being spanked by him.

So when he knocked on my trailer door at 10 a.m. to check on me, I invited him in.

He seemed no worse for the wear, considering how much he'd drank the night before.  He noticed immediately that I was fidgety and, considerate gentleman that he was, asked if there was anything he could do to help ease my nerves.  

"We could rehearse, maybe," I suggested, thinking we would both feel better if we went into it with enough experience to have informed boundaries.  He quirked an eyebrow and looked at me.

"Rehearse?"

I nodded and he slowly broke into a wide grin as he sat down on the sofa, spreading his legs wide and patting his knee.  "Then by all means, since practice makes perfect and we're all here to do a good job."

I moved over in front of him and stood between his feet, looking down at him.  

"Come here darling."  He rubbed his thigh, indicating where I was to lay.  "Come get comfortable over daddy's knee."

My stomach knotted and I was mortified when I realized I was already wet just from his words.  I was hoping to avoid this during the actual scene, but didn't have much hope of being able to stop it.  Maybe getting used to it before the actual event would help, somewhat.

I bent over his lap and let him position me; he scooted me back a bit and spread his legs wider so that my head rested on one thigh and my hips nestled across the other.  He took his time to make sure I was comfortable, and when he had me the way he wanted me, he stroked my back gently and whispered to me.

"There's a good girl," he said in a soft, quiet voice as his hand caressed my spine, massaging slowly from the base of my neck down to the curve where the small of my back rose up to the waist of my jeans.  "Remember that you can always make me stop if it's too much.  Even on the set."  He leaned forward and kissed me softly on the back of the neck.  "Don't ever think you're not a person of importance or that you shouldn't speak up."  

I nodded.  Just hearing him say that made all the difference in the world in how I felt.  I'd been afraid to ever say anything while we were filming, thinking that I could be replaced easily if I was perceived to be difficult.  Knowing that I could call a halt if I needed to was a heavy weight off my mind, especially considering the subject matter our scenes revolved around.  I knew now that he would support me.

I hugged his leg and sighed happily.  His big hands moved very gently over me, his left stroking my hair, his right rubbing in light circles on my bottom.  I was wearing blue jeans but I could feel the heat from his palm as vividly as if he was touching my naked skin.  He patted me lightly, getting me used to his hand, and then when he felt I was ready, he drew back and gave me a little smack.  It was barely enough to make me jump, but there was such a highly charged feeling of excitement in the pit of my stomach that I jerked a little anyway.  

The next smack was a little bit harder, but still gentle.  The third stung a bit.  He stopped and rubbed my bottom gently in between slaps, asking me if I was alright, giving me opportunity to ask him to stop.  I buried my face against his thigh and held tightly to his leg.  No, I definitely didn't want him to stop.

The fourth blow was hard enough to make me suck in my breath in surprise.  He hesitated a moment afterwards, waiting to see if I was going to protest, but I kept silent and he continued, landing another stinging slap that actually made me cry out.  He stopped again, but not to see if I was alright...there was a long pause, after which I felt his long, strong fingers slipping down the curve of my rear to press lightly against the crotch seam of my jeans.

He spoke, and I could hear the amusement in his voice.

"My my...you really are a naughty little girl, aren't you Anna?"  He pressed his fingers more firmly against my underseam, making me squirm.  "You've soaked right through your jeans."

I hugged his leg more tightly, pressing my mouth into his knee to keep from saying anything I would regret.  Things like _please, oh god please fuck me now, right now, NOW!!_

He patted the backs of my thighs and sat back on the sofa, tugging at my shoulder to get me to sit up.  "Lets slip those jeans off you, sweetheart.  I think you'll enjoy this more in just your panties, don't you?"

I slipped off his lap and stood up, not protesting when he sat forward so that he could reach me and began unbuckling my belt.  He yanked it free of its loops and folded it double, setting it on the sofa next to him.  "For another time," he grinned at me with a devious wink.  He unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, sliding his hands inside to cup my cheeks before slipping them off my hips and down my legs.  "Step," he instructed me, tapping my leg for me to lift it, then the other.  He tossed my jeans aside and I stood before him in just my panties and shirt.

"Lovely," he said with an approving smile as his eyes raked over me.  I could almost feel the heat from his gaze and it made me feel weak.  He leaned back again and patted his knee.  "Down you get."

I obeyed, loving the feeling I got in the pit of my stomach when he told me what to do.  I lay across his lap again and let him position me, not caring that my panties were mostly see-through and very skimpy...he was going to be spanking my naked ass later, who cared if my underwear was indecent right now?

He rubbed the lace and I could hear his low chuckle of approval.  "Such a pretty little bottom," he growled, his voice suddenly taking on a new timbre, deeper and more menacing.  "I must take special care not to hurt it."  His palm caressed lightly across my cheeks again and there was a moment of anticipation as he lifted his hand off me.  I tensed, sucking in my breath.

When it made contact, the sound that erupted from my throat was almost animalistic.  He rubbed his palm roughly across the cheek he'd just struck, then raised it again and brought it down on the other side.  I groaned loudly and hugged his leg, burying my face in his jeans to try to keep myself quiet.  He rubbed and stroked me in between slaps, his fingers paying no heed to the lace trimmed edges of my panties, slipping up under them and tugging them aside as he caressed my stinging bottom.

I didn't realize I was arching my back, pushing my rear up like an animal in heat, until I heard him laughing softly.  "Do you want more, sweetheart?  Or do you need me to soothe that ache lower down?"  He let his fingers slide under me, to lightly stroke over the crotch panel of my panties.  I sucked in my breath and moaned, unable to stop myself from biting his leg.  He was swirling his fingertips so lightly against the lace that I felt I would explode if he touched me just a tiny bit harder.

"Yes," I groaned, in pain with such an intense arousal that it actually made me ache.  "Please...please help me Tom..."

He shushed me gently, lifting me up and turning me so that I was sitting on his lap, with one of his arms around my shoulders to support me and the other laying lightly across my stomach.  He leaned me back, rocking me slowly, while he very very gently slipped my underwear down and pressed his fingers between my legs.  He only had to stroke me for a few seconds before I climaxed, my whole body shaking against him as the breath left my lungs and white hot waves of pleasure crashed down on me, leaving me panting and trembling in his arms.

He held me to his chest and stroked my hair, talking quietly to me as his fingers continued touching me lightly between my tightly clenched thighs.  He waited until the pulsing aftershocks had stopped, then withdrew his hand and smiled down at me, holding his wet fingers up and asking, "May I?"

I wasn't sure what he was asking, so I nodded, too weak and whipped to think about what he wanted.  His smile broadened as he took first one long finger and then the other into his mouth, sucking my slick juices from them, leaving the third to rub into my lips before lowering his head and kissing me.  His warm tongue licked the remaining juice from my lower lip and he groaned, a deep sound full of pleasure and appreciation.

"Mmmmm, you taste as delicious as you feel, darling."

 

His phone rang, followed immediately by mine; it was time for us to get to makeup and wardrobe.  He hugged me tight to him for a few more minutes, rocking me, asking me if I was going to be alright with the scene now.  I had no doubt I would be, but I wasn't so sure about him...there was a large, hard bump in his lap, pressing hotly into my hip.  

"Would you like me to help you?" I asked, pulling reluctantly out of his embrace and looking down at the front of his jeans where his cock was straining against his zipper.  "We have time."

He shook his head, leaning forward to kiss me behind my ear.  "It's alright, darling.  You needed to be relaxed to handle your part of this scene...I need to be tense to handle mine."  He lifted me up off his lap and stood, stretching a little bit uncomfortably as I retrieved my jeans from the floor and started pulling them back on.  "Trust me, it'll be good."

He leaned down to press his face to the side of my neck, breathing hotly against my skin for a moment before he sighed deeply and pulled out his phone.

"Makeup in five for you, wardrobe in two for me.  I better run."

I watched him go, wondering what his being tense with that big of a boner was going to mean for me on the set.  I hoped it meant a good and proper thrashing with no mercy...during filming or after, it didn't matter to me which.

I looked down at the sofa and noticed my belt was gone.

A shiver bolted through my stomach and downward, setting my nether regions on fire for the second time that day.  

 

 

_To be continued..._

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

I was all nerves when I arrived on the set, but it wasn't the bad kind of nerves that make you queasy and scared - this was pure excitement and anticipation, complete with shaky knees and fluttery stomach.  I'd read Tom's script, and the description of the scene was so wonderfully kinky that I found myself wishing we could film it alone.  Just turn us loose in a locked room with a rolling camera and see what we did with it. The movie would end up with an X rating, but it could always be released overseas without a rating...maybe if Tom and I invited Benicio and made it a threesome we could swing it.

My face felt hot and I giggled to myself for thinking such things.  I didn't want to share Tom and I doubted he'd want to share me either, especially with the big burly teddybear we had for a director.

Tom was already on the set, looking as tightly wound as I felt.  He grinned at me and wrapped up his conversation with the set manager and made his way over to me.  He was fully clothed, just as the script called for, and for once I had on a costume as well.  It was beautiful, and I felt bad that in a few minutes it was going to be torn to tatters and tossed to the floor.  

Tom's eyes were bright and dancing as he looked me over with a broad grin.  "You look absolutely beautiful," he complimented, his gaze dropping to the low cut of my velveteen bodice, his hands going to my sides to slide slowly down over my hips, feeling the lush softness of the dress.  "What a shame that we have to destroy this lovely thing."  His last words were punctuated with a quick grope of my bottom through the heavy fabric.

"The dress or my ass?" I teased.  His grin took a dark twist.

"Why, your ass of course.  There's an exact duplicate of the dress."  He licked his lips.  "I dare say your ass is a one of a kind."

The set manager joined us, giving Tom a sideways look as he reluctantly let go of me and stepped back.  There were specific instructions on how to tear the dress, since it had to be done in one take and ripping heavy fabric could be tricky.  The bodice had a tearaway panel so it would give easily, but he also had to rip the back, so the stitching had been purposefully done in flimsy thread that wouldn't take much effort to break.  I had to breathe carefully so I didn't pop the seams myself.

"We're going to do the kiss first, so mind your air intake.  You get the heaving-breasts thing going too convincingly and things will start popping out all over the place.  Once that starts, this whole thing is designed to fall apart."

"All women's clothing should be made this way!"

Tom turned around to see Benicio had come up behind him.  "Now now Benny, you're going to get a reputation as an anti-feminist if you're not careful.  Comments like that have a way of turning up in The Sun."

The director shrugged.  "I'm married, my wife loves me, she doesn't care if I talk like a sexist so long as I deliver in the sack."  He gave Tom a playful slap on the shoulder.  "You should get married, it takes so much stress off."

"TMI Benny, way TMI."

Benicio turned to me with a warm smile.  "All okay girlie?" he asked me in his heavily accented english.  "Of course you're okay, you're the most professional person on this set."  He gave me a thumbs-up and turned to head back to his little temporary booth.  "I'm going to direct this one from over there so you two can have a little room to move.  Use the space, Thomas."  He was waving his arms around, animated as always.

Tom looked at me and mouthed "Use the space?"  I shrugged, clasping my hands over my tightly laced bodice to protect the stitches in case I started laughing.  I didn't want anything falling off before Tom got his hands on it.

The set manager moved us into position and people started clearing the area.  Tom and I were standing facing one another for a few minutes while lights received last minute adjustments and cameras were fine-tuned.  His eyes were locked on my face so intently that I was almost embarrassed to look at him.

His voice broke into my concentration with a purred whisper.

"I am so hard, your bodice isn't the only potential wardrobe malfunction on the menu."

My eyes darted down to the front of his pants.  He was wearing a heavy velveteen evening coat and satin vest, which partially obscured the view, but it was obvious his zipper was straining to hold bits of him back.

"What on earth's _that_ from?" I teased, keeping my voice a whisper like his so that our conversation remained between us.  He laughed quietly and leaned toward me just slightly.

"Oh it probably had quite a lot to do with your lovely little body squirming on my lap about an hour ago."  His voice was deep and growly, and the warmth I'd felt between my legs ever since our warm-up spanking session that morning heated up several notches.  "Or perhaps it was your sweet little bottom, pinking up so beautifully under my hand."

I felt my ears going hot.

"Or maybe it was your soft little puss, coming so easily with just a few heated strokes."  He raised his hand and briefly ran a finger across his upper lip, inhaling deeply.  The gesture seemed so erotically obscene that I actually shivered.  He grinned at my obvious discomfort.

And then our scene started.  Benicio had already coached Tom on how the action was to be played, and I, as usual, had been told to follow his lead and react naturally.  But the director had been paying attention to our interaction, apparently, because for the first time he came over the loudspeaker and gave me specific instructions.  

"I want you to be submissive when he tears your dress off, then fight him when it becomes obvious what he's about to do.  He'll overpower you, but don't take it willingly.  Bueno?"

I nodded.  He obviously sensed that my natural reaction would be to submit and probably enjoy it.  Tom grinned, realizing the same thing I did.  People were noticing how we acted with each other.

"Got it," I called out.

"Oh you're going to get it alright," Tom growled at me under his breath, his face a mask of cruel lust.  He was already in character, his hands clenching at his sides, his eyes darkened and locked on my lips.

If I ever thought I'd been aroused before, it was nothing compared to now.

 

He pulled me roughly to him, slamming me up against his chest as his lips crushed viciously onto mine.  I instantly tasted blood, but I had no idea if it was from him or me.  His hands were gripping my wrists in a painful grasp and I twisted against it, yelping against his mouth, my feeble struggle easily taken in stride by his obviously superior strength as he encircled me in his arms, trapping me.  I tried to push him away with my hands against his chest but all it did was anger him and earn me a hard yank.  

"You'll submit to me or I will put you in your place," he growled threateningly, his lips against my throat, his teeth grazing my skin viciously.  I made one more attempt to put space between us and was met with a kiss so hard, so passionate, so mind numbingly feral that all I could do was let him pry my mouth open with his tongue and shove his own inside.  It felt like sex, only with tongues and lips and teeth, and he used his tongue every bit as skillfully as I knew he would use his cock when the time came.  It thrust into my mouth with such force that I whimpered.  

He slowed his assault and sucked my tongue sensually for a moment; I knew the cameras couldn't see what he was doing, and it made me happy inside knowing that he was doing it just for me.  The audience would never know he had paused long enough to soothe me in the middle of a violent scene with a sexy, gentle caress.  He and I both knew a brutal experience was coming and this was his way of letting me know he was still in control, that he wouldn't allow his character to hurt me.  I melted into the kiss for a moment, moaning quietly into his mouth, then followed my cue and pulled away.

His eyes flashed with anger.  It was frightening how real he could make it all appear.  His left hand grabbed my upper arm, jerking me around so that my back was to him; his right grasped the back of my dress at the neck and pulled down violently, ripping it straight down the middle.  I cried out and my hands flew to my bodice to keep the torn dress from falling to the floor, but he yanked me back and gripped the laced front, tearing it easily away, leaving me grasping frantically to what was left.  I was sobbing and begging him - it didn't matter what I begged for, since my voice would be edited out and hers would be dubbed in in post-production - but I cried and begged him _please..._

He pulled what was left of the dress away from my body and left me standing there in a see-through slip, which he easily ripped from me as well.  His voice was both unbearably erotic and frighteningly menacing as he encircled me with his long arms and growled into my ear, "You _will_ obey me, and when you do not, you will be punished severely."

My knees felt shaky and my stomach twisted into knots as he pushed me forward, bending me over the edge of the bed.  His left hand gripped me by the back of the neck to hold me in place, pushing my face into the mattress while I tried to reach behind me and pry his fingers loose.  I felt his other hand brush lightly over my naked bottom - his way of warning me it was about to start - and I sucked my breath in to wait for the first blow.

The script read _Sir William strikes Brienne's bare backside viciously with the flat of his hand, barely giving her time to finish screaming before he strikes her again, five times in rapid succession._

The warmup spanking he'd given me that morning was _nothing_ compared to this.

The first blow was every bit as hard as the next five, and he never let up until it was finished.  By the time it was done I was screaming, just as the script called for, but it was real - I didn't have to act.  My tears were soaking the bedclothes and my throat was growing hoarse from yelling.

And then I heard his zipper being pulled down.  Had there been a last minute script change that nobody told me about?

I felt him push himself up against me from behind, his hands gripping my hips fiercely, holding me still while he shoved his cock - his very _naked_ cock - against the backs of my thighs.  All I could think to do was open my legs so he'd have a place to put it where the cameras couldn't see there was no actual penetration, and when I spread my thighs he immediately pushed in between them with a loud groan.  

He was hard - _very_ hard.  So hard in fact that the natural curve of him forced him to rub against me as he thrust, simulating rough sex against my backside while his stiff and heated manhood dragged back and forth on my very wet, very excited pussy.  It was almost unbearable and I heard myself groaning as loudly as him as my arousal heated up.  He was sliding easily against me, my wetness letting him move without resistance.

I didn't know at this point if I was supposed to be resisting him or submitting to the delicious assault - this part had obviously been added without my knowledge, since the script page I'd read that morning ended right after the spanking.  But I couldn't bring myself to care, because the most incredible heated sensation was rising in the pit of my stomach and spreading downward, melting into that aching place between my legs where he was rubbing against me.  I gripped the bedsheets and buried my face in the mattress, trying to fight it, but by the time I realized what was happening it was too late.  

I climaxed, right there in front of the cameras.  It was impossible to stop it once it started, and I heard myself screaming into the mattress as Tom's hand came to the back of my neck to wrap his fingers around my throat gently.  He squeezed, cutting off my air just enough to cause my cries to turn into strangled gasps, and as I collapsed under his thrusts I felt him simulating his own climax behind me.  I knew it wasn't real because the only wetness I felt was my own, and I wondered hazily how he was managing to hold off...he'd been aroused since that morning and I didn't think he'd had time between spanking me, going to wardrobe and makeup, and turning up to the set to take care of himself.

I would have to take care of that for him later.  Poor guy was probably suffering. 

When Benicio called cut and Tom let go of my neck, my hands flew to my burning bottom while I gasped for air.  My orgasm had been so intense that it - coupled with Tom's hand around my throat - had taken my breath completely away.

"Excellent, buena, get her a robe Marcie.  You two have five minutes while I check this."

Tom immediately sat down next to me and pulled me into his arms, one hand sliding down to rub my bottom gently.  "Shhhh, darling, it's okay," he soothed as the wardrobe girl brought my robe and Tom took it from her, wrapping it around me.  He lifted my face so he could see me and started wiping my tears with his thumb.  "I'm sorry baby, was it too much?"

I shook my head, my breath still hitching as the twitchy little convulsions between my legs caused my thighs to jerk spasmodically.  I squeezed my knees together, trying to hide it as the woman left us.

"Tom," I whispered, my voice sounding strangely desperate to my own ears.

"Shhhh," he quieted me, his concerned expression melting into a grin.  "I know, sweetheart.  But nobody else does."  He hugged me against him and chuckled very quietly, under his breath.  "Too bad they don't give Oscars for body doubles...you would sweep the whole category."

 

 

 

_To be continued..._


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

After a couple of short fill-ins for lighting purposes, I was dismissed from the set.  Tom had to stay behind to go over some things with the director, so I wrapped up in my robe and headed for the commissary for a coffee fix.  After that scene, I needed it.  My bottom was stinging and my legs were shaky with that nervous tremor you get after a really good orgasm.  

I wanted to wait for Tom, but I didn't know how long he would be, so I got my coffee and went back to my trailer to shower and nap.  I wasn't on call again for two days and I was looking forward to relaxing a bit, maybe wandering around the city again, find a bookstore or museum to hang out in for a while.  But try as I might to plan out my days off, all I could think about was Tom's cock, so hard and hot and _huge,_ sliding against me.  The sound he made when I spread my legs and he slipped in between them, the way he momentarily loosened his tight grip on my hips to gently press his fingertips into my hipbones, the tender way he sucked my tongue in the middle of a heated forceful kiss...if he was like that with strangers watching, what on earth was he like when he was alone with a woman?

I couldn't stop thinking about it.

 

I'd showered and wrapped myself in my own comfy robe and was settling in to read when someone knocked.  I yelled for them to come in and was met with Tom's voice in response.

"I can't darling, my hands are full."

I opened the door to find him looking up at me with an anxious look on his face and two large coffees in his hands.  "I knocked with my knee," he grinned, handing me one of the coffees.  "Need some caffeine?"

I took the cup and moved aside so he could come in.  He stepped inside, put his coffee down on the table, and promptly pushed me back against the refrigerator.  "I need you so fucking bad, baby," he hissed against my ear as his hands slipped inside my robe to rub up and down my sides.  "Please please tell me you have ten minutes for me."

I yelped in surprise as my back hit the fridge handle.  He was mauling me with his mouth, his hands moving over my body under my robe, his own body trapping me as he pressed against me.  "Is ten minutes all you want?" I asked breathlessly, gasping when his hands pushed the robe off my shoulders, baring my upper body to him.  His head dropped to my breast and he bit my nipple hard enough to make me jerk against him in pain; he immediately soothed the bite with a gentle suck, licking me with a moan of frustrated need.

"Ten minutes is enough - but hell no, I want more than that."  He kissed my bruised nipple tenderly.  "I'm sorry sweetheart, I'm really fucking uncomfortable."  His voice sounded strained and I could feel his hips pushing against me, grinding his pelvis against my stomach, heat radiating from his swollen crotch.

"The bed is in there," I whispered, motioning with my head toward the back of the trailer.  He shook his head and sighed in obvious frustration.  

"I only have a few minutes, I have a press conference in half an hour and I have to change clothes."  I noticed for the first time that he was still in his costume.  He gave me a pained look.  "I don't want our first time together to be rushed like this.  Could you...could you maybe just...help me masturbate?"

I unzipped his pants and pushed my hand down the front, gripping him firmly, not even bothering to respond with words.  His reaction was instantaneous; his head dropped back and he closed his eyes, a deep groan erupting from his throat that sparked a warm tingle in my own nether regions.  I knew we didn't have time for anything more than this, so I ignored it and reminded myself that he'd already made me come twice today.  Fair was fair - it was finally his turn.

"What would you like, Tom?"  I was stroking him and he had stiffened so much in my hand that there was no room in his pants for me to move anymore.  I pushed them down off his hips and he stood looking down at me as I sank to my knees in front of him, my hands sliding around behind him to grip his asscheeks.  He sucked in his breath and groaned _"Oh god yes, yes baby,"_ as I squeezed him.  His reaction sent another warm rush through me and I kneaded his firm cheeks with my fingers.  "Weak spot," I whispered.  He opened his eyes and his face broke into a wide grin as he looked down at me.

"You remembered."

His eyes locked to mine and I recognized the pleading look.  He needed quick relief.  I could give it, so I did.

I licked my lips and took him into my mouth, moving forward down the length of him a slow inch at a time because he was so big.  His legs shook for a moment and his hands came down to tangle in my hair; I paused, thinking he was going to thrust into my throat, but he stopped me from going any further.  "Just the tip, darling," he instructed me.  "I don't want to hurt your sweet mouth."

I sucked him gently, teasing his swollen head with my tongue, until his breathing became erratic and he leaned forward to brace his arms against the wall behind me.  I pushed his pants down further so that I could stroke and squeeze his ass,  listening to his groans of pleasure as I licked and sucked at him, and when I knew he was close I pressed my fingers into the crevice between his cheeks to rub firmly against his tight hole.  It pushed him over the edge and he cried out, his hips thrusting forward, his hand coming down swiftly to pull my head away.  He came on my neck and chest in violent spurts, his pent-up need finally satisfied.

He cursed under his breath as his head fell to his chest.  He was trembling and his breathing was so erratic that he sounded almost like a wheezing asthmatic, trying desperately to get oxygen into his constricting lungs.  I stayed on my knees in front of him, my hands still stroking his backside to soothe him, looking up at him.

"Oh Anna," he finally said in a shaking, whispery voice.  "That was _so fucking wonderful."_  He pulled me up and started to hug me to him, but I stopped him.

"Satin and semen don't mix," I scolded, keeping him at arms' length so he wouldn't owe any embarrassing explanations to the wardrobe department.  He laughed and nodded, looking down at my come-spattered chest.  

"Let me fix you, sweetheart."

He reached behind me to retrieve a kitchen towel from the top of the fridge and gently mopped his come from my skin with it.  The tense expression he'd worn all day had faded from his face and he looked relaxed, finally.  I touched his face with my palm and he smiled at me, that warm, gentle smile that he'd been giving me since my first day on the set, the one that made me feel at ease.  He bent his head down and kissed me.

"Thank you," he whispered against my lips.  "Interviewers are so much easier to deal with when you don't have a throbbing boner."  He pulled his pants back up and zipped them, his eyes still on my face. "Can I come back tonight?  Maybe we can have dinner together, watch a movie or something..."  He motioned toward the little bedroom in the back.  "Do you have a TV in there?  We could snuggle up in the bed and fall asleep watching Graham Norton."

I nodded and helped him fasten the button above his zipper - the thick woolen fabric was making it a difficult task for his big fingers, even more so since they were still shaking.  "That sounds wonderful," I agreed.  "I'm off tomorrow so I can stay up as late as I want tonight."

His smile was genuinely happy when I fixed the button and looked up to meet his gaze.  

"You better go, you still have to get to wardrobe before the conference," I reminded him.  I ran one fingertip across his forehead, showing him the heavy makeup that made his skin appear so pale as it rubbed off on my finger. "You should take a quick shower too, you look like a gothic Victorian gentleman pervert or something."  He laughed as I shooed him toward the door, handing him his untouched coffee.  "Go on, off with you."

He pulled me to him for a quick kiss before he left.  "See you tonight, sweetheart."

 

 

 

_To be continued..._

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

I was asleep in front of the television when a soft rapping on the door brought me awake with a start.  It was getting late, I could tell by the sudden darkness through the windows, and when I opened the door Tom stood there smiling at me.  I rubbed my eyes and stepped aside so he could come in from the cold.

"Hello sweetheart," he murmured to me as he kissed my forehead.  It suddenly seemed strange to me that we felt familiar enough with each other to slip into terms of endearment and forehead kisses, but we _had_ been intimate several times already - and not just for the cameras.  I gave him a sleepy smile and his face shifted into that concerned look he was famous for.  "Did I wake you?"  He checked his watch.  "Shit, I'm sorry darling, I didn't realize how late it was getting...the conference dragged on so long I nearly fell asleep myself."  He sat the coffees he'd brought down on the table and took me into his arms, rubbing his hands up and down on my back.  His coat was cold and damp.

"Is it raining?" I asked, trying to see past him to the window.  "You're chilled."

He gave me a sweet smile and handed me an extra large vanilla cappuccino as he removed his coat.  "Nothing this and a little snuggling in front of the telly can't fix."

 

We had been cuddled up on the bed sipping our coffees - with just enough whiskey added to counteract the caffeine and relax us - for about a half hour when Tom put the remote down and turned to me.  "May I kiss you?" he asked, his voice sincere and a little bit shy.  I had to laugh and he gave me an embarrassed grin.  "What?"

"You've had your boy parts up against my girl parts and you're asking for permission to kiss me?"

He threw his head back and laughed.  "Well, my boy parts are in the habit of being a bit rude sometimes so I try to keep everything else as polite as possible."  His face was close to mine and his eyes were sparkling, looking down at my lips.  "May I please?"

I nodded.  "Of course you can."

"Close your eyes."

"Oh no way.  You're going to do something."

"Close them!"

I obeyed, reluctantly.

"Keep them closed.  If you open them, I'm going to have to punish you."

"How is that a deterrent?"

A big warm palm smacked me playfully on the side of the leg.  "I mean it woman - eyes closed tight."

I scrunched my eyes shut and waited to feel his lips on mine.  I felt the bed shifting and assumed he was getting into a more comfortable position to settle in for a little bit of nice making out; so when I felt his hands tugging my pajama bottoms down my eyes nearly flew open in surprise.  He was obviously watching and warned me not to break the rules.

 _"Shut._  I mean it, Anna."

My pajama pants slid down to my thighs and I suddenly felt a warm, damp heat against my pussy.

_So that was what he meant by 'kiss'._

I felt his mouth open on me and his tongue began very slowly, very softly licking my folds, alternating with gentle but firm kisses along the plump outer swells.  I groaned and put my hands over my face, unsure if I was going to be able to keep my eyes closed without cheating.  Part of me felt trembly at the idea of punishment for disobedience, another part wanted to be a good girl and do as I was told.  Either way, we'd both win.

He pressed his mouth hard against me but couldn't get to most of me because of the way I was sitting.  He slipped his long fingers in between my thighs and began urging them apart.  "Open for me sweetheart, let me kiss you deeper."  

I lifted my hips to scoot further down and he slid his hands under me to help.  When I was mostly reclined, he parted my thighs and settled in between them, laying on his stomach with his arms up under me to lift my hips up to his face.  "Remember, eyes closed," he reminded me.

I spent the next ten or so minutes in agonized heaven as he progressed slowly from gentle kisses to firm licks to pushing his tongue completely into me, licking and lapping and tickling and occasionally slurping, which made me squeal and him laugh.  When he moved his mouth and replaced it with his fingers to slowly begin pumping in and out of me, I arched up into the strokes and for the first time heard him groan. He'd shown the utmost self control so far, but I felt like he might be slipping just a bit after all this workup.

"Tom?"

"Yes darling?"  His voice was muffled and I started giggling from the vibrations as he spoke with his mouth pressed to my pussy.

"Can I open my eyes yet?"

"What did I tell you?"

I shivered with something that I could only assume was anticipation.  "You said keep them closed.  But - "

"But what?" he cut me off, spreading my folds open with his fingers and giving one of my inner labia a sharp nip with his teeth as a warning.  I yelped and tried to pull my hips back, but he held me still with his arms on my thighs.

"But you're killing me...I want to look at you."

He nibbled slowly at my clit, paying attention to it for the first time since he started this maddening foreplay.  "I warned you you'd be punished if you disobeyed me."

"Yes."

He nipped me hard, right where I was most sensitive.  "Do you want a spanking?"

I tried not to answer too quickly, but I gave myself away when a breathless _"Ohhh yes"_   broke from my lips.  He chuckled.

"Then open them."

I did, and looked down at him.  I almost lost my breath for a moment.  He was between my knees, his face pressed into my pussy, his eyes closed.  He looked like a demonic angel feasting on an innocent, with his messy dark hair tumbling over his forehead and his long dark lashes fanned out over his cheeks.  His eyes opened and as he looked up at me over my hips I could see a barely contained desire smoldering in them.  

When he raised his face to speak, his lips and chin were soaked with my juices.

"You broke the rules, little girl."

My thighs were quivering as he stood and I saw his bulging erection pushing out at the front of his pants.  His eyes stayed on my face as he slowly, deliberately, unfastened his belt and pulled it free of the beltloops.  I recognized it instantly - _my_ belt, the one that disappeared the first time he'd spanked me.  I remembered his words when he'd taken it off me and laid it next to his leg on the sofa:   _For another time._

He doubled it and snapped it straight with a threatening pop, his eyes going dark as he bent and grabbed me by the ankles.  I didn't have time to think about scrambling out of his reach before he yanked me to the end of the bed and tugged my pajama bottoms the rest of the way off.  I finally got my wits about me and started trying to get away, but he flipped me over on my stomach and I heard the belt snap again.  

But instead of hitting me with it, he grabbed my hands and wrapped the belt around my wrists, binding them just tightly enough that I couldn't slip out of it.  Relief flooded through me when I realized I wasn't going to get a real beating and I stopped fighting; he noticed the change in my demeanor and reached up to stroke my cheek, flashing me a wicked smile tempered just slightly with tenderness.

"You didn't think I was going to spank you with this, did you?" he asked with a wry twist to his smile.  I nodded meekly and he laughed.  "I want to be able to make love to you afterwards - crippling you wouldn't serve my interests."  He sat down on the end of the bed and looked back at me over his shoulder.  "You'd best get over here and get across my lap before I get impatient."

I got up on my knees and shuffled down to him, letting him pull me around him till I was laying face-down over his thighs.  He had to help me because my hands were bound;  he handled me gently and made sure I was comfortable before he raised his hand and gave me a hard smack.  There was no warm-up this time and I yelled, not expecting him to start so quickly.  But he aimed his blow low and his fingers hit me underneath, across my already aroused pussy.  It felt wonderful and I squirmed on his lap.

"Be still," he warned me.  "If you wiggle too much I'll have to stop.  You don't want that, do you?"

 _"No sir,"_   I gasped, trying hard to stay still - but with my hands bound I couldn't hold onto his leg, and I felt discomfitingly off balance.

He saw what my problem was and rubbed my back for a moment with his hand, moving the other to my hip to steady me.  "You'll have to trust me, Anna.  Do you trust me?"

I nodded.

"Words, darling.  Nodding isn't an acceptable answer."

"Yes," I blurted out.  It was agony waiting for him to get started again.

"That's better."  He slipped his hand under the back of my teeshirt and pushed it up, exposing my bare back, tickling his long fingers over my skin for a moment till I tensed and goosebumps popped up all over me.  When I was completely off guard and paying attention to the delightful sensation of being softly stroked, his other hand came down on my bottom again with a loud, hard _thwack._

_"OH!"_

I jumped hard that time, but he kept me steady with a hand on my hip.  "Let's see if my baby girl is wet enough yet for me to take her," he said in a low growl as he slid his hand down between my legs, pressing his fingers against my folds then finally slipping one inside.  "Ohh yes - getting there."  He left the finger inside, just barely pressing into my opening, as another finger trailed down further to rub against my clit in maddeningly slow strokes.  I squirmed again, unable to stop myself from pushing my bottom up, silently begging for more.  "Behave yourself darling," he warned me again.  "I can always take that belt off your wrists and use it on your delightful rump."

Something about that possibility made me suddenly wetter, and he noticed immediately.  I heard him laughing very quietly under his breath, a menacing edge in his voice sending shivers of excitement through me.  

"And I thought _I_   was kinky," he whispered next to my ear as he kissed me softly.  He was still stroking my clit, one finger inside me just barely despite my best efforts to get him to slide it in further by pushing my hips back; he kept it just at the opening, refusing to satisfy me.  I tried again, groaning in frustration as I arched my back, making it clear what I wanted.  

_"Please!"_

The stroking stopped and his other hand came to the back of my neck, where he squeezed hard, forcing me to be still.  I felt his fingers pull away from me and thought I would cry with disappointment, but he stopped my nonsense with a viciously hard spank across my cheeks.  I wasn't ready for it and immediately a throbbing ache started to pulse between my legs.

 _"Oh god..."_ I was starting to cry now, for real, and the pulsing sensation was creeping deeper into my gut, uncontrollable.   _"Oh god Tom, hit me again please!"_

He paused; I could feel his hand hovering above my ass, teasing me, waiting for just the right moment to send me over the edge.  "Are you going to come, Anna?  Hmm?  Are you going to be a good girl and climax for daddy?"

I could hear his breathing; it was as heavy and unsteady as my own, but he was so controlled and undeniably  _master_ of the situation that I felt all I could do - all I  _wanted_   to do - was submit completely to him.  I was bent to his will, and I was okay with it.

_"Yes."_

The next blow was all it took to pull me right to the brink.  His fingers made contact with my pussy, hard, while his palm smacked against the crevice between my cheeks.  He knew what he was doing and I cried out, more from pleasure than pain, though there was a healthy dose of that as well...it was delicious and perfect and I begged him for one more, just one more.

He gave it without hesitating.  The final blow hit me squarely on my privates, the incredible sting ripping a violent orgasm from me as I jerked on his lap and gnawed at the belt around my wrists to keep from screaming.  As soon as he'd landed the blow he left his palm against me and pushed two fingers deep into my cunt, pumping them into me quickly while another stroked my clit, dragging my climax from me mercilessly until I finally let go and screamed.

He didn't try to shush me or put his hand over my mouth - he just let me scream.  When I stopped, I could hear him talking to me quietly.

_"There you go, baby...good girl...take your pleasure..."_

He was still stroking me, dragging out the last of my aftershocks till I couldn't take it anymore and tried to pull away from his hand.  He moved it away and let it rest on my bottom.  I was completely spent but oddly still felt aroused, something that had never happened to me before.  I let him pull me up from his lap and lay me over on the bed, watching his face with blurry eyes as he began unbinding my wrists.  He kissed me gently once the belt was off, bringing my hands up to his mouth to spread kisses across the red marks I'd given myself pulling against the restraint.  He stopped and looked at me with a surprisingly kind look in his eyes.

"God baby, I want you so bad...there's not enough room in here though."

I could barely catch my breath enough to speak.  "Oh?  How much room do we need?"

He grinned, a wicked lustful grin that made me wonder if I should be worried.  He'd just tied me up, spanked me, and given me an earthshattering orgasm, but that look promised there was a _lot_ more in store for this night.

"Let's go wreck a hotel room."

 

 

_To be continued..._


	8. Chapter 8

 

 

We were ducking into a cab when two on-site security officers came around the side of my trailer and shone their flashlights on us.  

"Oh, Mr Hiddleston - sorry, we were told there was some kind of disturbance."  The officer in front, an older man I knew as Harry, turned his light toward me as I was trying to slink into the back seat of the taxi unnoticed.  "Hey Miss Black."  He looked from me to Tom and back again. "Sorry to bother you, we had to check it out."

Tom smiled politely and nodded to the pair.  "No worries officer, thank you for doing your job.  I'm afraid that was us - we had a bit to drink and knocked some things about.  Sorry."  He gave Harry a sheepish grin.

I giggled.   _Knocked some things about,_ indeed.  He got into the cab next to me and pulled the door shut as the officers waved goodnight to us.

"Holy shit," he laughed as they walked away.  "We were just almost arrested for noisy foreplay."

The driver glanced at us in the mirror.

"Lancashire Regency please," Tom told him as he snuggled down into the seat with me, pulling me up against him.  He pressed his mouth to my ear and whispered hotly, _"They're very understanding about noise there."_

 

"Sign in please Sir."

The receptionist pushed a fancy leather-bound guest registry across the counter to Tom and he picked up the gold pen, signing it with a flourish.  He looked at me and winked;  curious, I glanced at the book and saw "Mr and Mrs L.M. Odinson" in his messy scrawl across the bottom line.  I tried not to laugh as the receptionist handed him a keycard and told us to have a good night.

"What's the M for?" I asked as the elevator doors slid shut behind us.

"Mordecai."

"Seriously?  Loki's middle name is _Mordecai?_ Oh that's just too cute."

He was laughing as he pulled me up against him for a kiss.  "A fan once gave me a drawing of the scene where Loki tells Frigga she's not his mother.  She went batshit and whipped out his full name on him - I thought it was funny so I use it from time to time."

He stopped talking and kissed me, deep and slow, till the doors opened on our floor.  "After you, Mrs Odinson."

 

We weren't in our room for more than a few seconds when the tension of the last several days of unresolved foreplay finally got the better of us. Tom waited until I had removed my coat and kicked off my shoes before he advanced on me aggressively, backing me up all the way to the bed with a look of unrestrained lust darkening his handsome face.  I retreated from him until I bumped into the mattress and was forced to stop.

He gripped my shoulders tightly, almost too tightly, holding me still until I looked into his eyes.  The edge of the bed was at the backs of my thighs and one light push would send me toppling onto the cushy mattress.  It wasn't a horrible option, especially since that aching need his spanking had awakened in me was still there, purring softly, waiting for the opportunity to snarl.  His hands came across to my collarbones and he stroked them lightly with his fingertips, his eyes watching mine, not speaking.  There was a dark intensity in them that was mildly frightening.

"Tell me what you want, darling."

I was momentarily confused by his words, but more confused by his expression.  It was obvious to both of us what was about to happen, and I was ready to just hand everything over to him, let him dictate how the night went, make the decisions for us, do to me what he wished...but he had brought everything to a full stop and was standing before me, sliding his big warm hands up to my face to stroke my cheeks softly with his thumbs.  The look of dark longing was still there in his eyes, but it was tempered by that cocked eyebrow that always told me he was still considering my feelings despite his own desires.

"I want..."

I hesitated, not sure exactly what to say.  He was giving me free rein to call it, to state my desires, but all I could think was S _urprise me._ "I want you."

His lips tugged up into a smile that crinkled his eyes, bringing back that kind look that always managed to slip in from time to time, no matter how hardass he was trying to be.  "I want you too, sweetheart."  He glanced down between us.  "Very _very_ much."

I didn't look; I didn't want to see the proof.  I wanted to feel it, on me, against me, inside me.  I kept my eyes on his face and reached up to drape my arms around his neck, having to stand on my tiptoes to reach. "Do you realize how many orgasms we've shared between us without _once_ ever having had actual intercourse?"

He threw his head back and laughed that big openmouthed laugh of his.  "Oh trust me I'm well aware of it."  He lowered his head to mine and kissed the corner of my mouth, still laughing.  "And tonight that streak ends."

 

The next few minutes were dizzying as he veered quickly from sweet and considerate to harsh and demanding and back again.  It was as if the character he played on set had followed us to the hotel and was fighting with him for dominance over me.  I wasn't sure who I wanted the most, but whoever ended up winning, I had the sneaking suspicion I'd be okay with submitting to them.  Maybe they'd be willing to share me.

His kisses grew heated and urgent, but still he kept me standing against the edge of the bed, as if he was waiting to see which would happen first - my legs giving out or him deciding it was time to just push me backwards.  He began undressing me slowly, erotically, agonizingly.  His hands were hot on my skin, his fingertips brushing me lightly just enough to make me want more.  

"You never told me what you want, baby," he murmured against my shoulder as my shirt slipped from his hands to the floor.  "Tell me what you want and then I'll tell you what you're going to get."

The menace in his voice was tantalizing.  I dropped my head back and moaned as his lips caressed down my chest, kissing a trail over the swell of my breast till he reached the edge of my bra cup.  His hands came down to press over both breasts, his fingers digging in just slightly.   _"Tell me."_

I felt a hot flush come up my neck, setting my ears on fire.  My voice sounded small and frantic when I finally spoke.

"Be gentle, be rough, hold me, kiss me, hurt me... _do everything."_

I didn't know why I said it but his reaction was purely visceral; one arm went around my back to bend me at the waist while the other pushed downward, yanking open the button and zipper on my jeans and shoving them down my legs.  I could hear him breathing hard at my throat, sounding ragged and desperate, and realized we were finally, _finally_ going to consummate.

"As you wish, darling."

His hand snaked into my panties and began rubbing me roughly, his fingers slipping easily between my folds and pushing up into me, deep, dragging a heavy gasp from my throat as the excitement that had been hiding in my belly ignited and came to life again.  I sensed immediately that he wasn't going to waste any time - we'd had days and days of foreplay, now it was time to get down to it.

"I'll give you all that you ask," he whispered as I gasped and whimpered, my knees buckling under the overwhelming pleasure of his fingers stroking away at me; he held me up, refusing to let me fall onto the bed. "But our first time together is not going to hurt, I promise you."  I grabbed at his wrist, trying to pull his hand away from my crotch, afraid I was going to come again before he even got my panties off.  He took a bite at my neck, nipping my flesh hard enough to pinch, but not enough to do any damage.  "However, our second and third times...I'll make no promises concerning those."

He finally took mercy on me and pulled his hand out of my panties, bringing it up to unclasp my bra and slip the straps down.  His fingers were wet and the feel of them gliding over my shoulder gave me shivers. He still had one arm around my back, bending me backwards slightly, keeping me off balance so that I couldn't get away from him if I tried.  

"I can't wait to suck that sweet nipple," he teased, lowering his head close enough to slip his tongue out and lick me.  "Shall I do it now, or should I tease you a while longer?"

"Mmmmm...no time like the present," I sighed.

He let out a low, sexy laugh.  "If you're still able to put together sentences like that, I'm most definitely not doing something right."  He tipped me backwards, putting me completely off balance, relying entirely on his arm around my back to keep me from falling.  I didn't even resist, my body just giving in and knowing that he would hold me.  He dipped his head to my breast again and breathed hotly against the sensitive skin underneath, where it curved under to my ribcage.  "She trusts me," he murmured huskily.  "Such an aphrodesiac, is that."

And then he _finally_ laid me down on the bed.

 

I closed my eyes even though he didn't tell me to.  I knew by now that he liked me to have them shut while he was giving me pleasure, and I was quickly finding out why - the sensation of not knowing where he was going to touch me next, what he was about to do, where his mouth or hands were going, was thrilling.  It heightened everything, made it all so much more exciting, so intensely _good_.  He knew it.  He knew it, and he taught it to me till I'd started doing it on my own, without being told.  He must have noticed and felt a little bit proud of me, because I heard - and felt - him whisper _"Good girl"_   against my bare stomach as he began moving slowly up my body.  His lips were warm as he peppered soft little kisses around my belly, his hands sliding up to my breasts to squeeze and knead them while they waited for his mouth to get there.  By the time it did, my nipples were aching from being pinched and teased by his long, strong fingers.

I moaned loudly as he crept up my body and replaced one hand with his lips;  he immediately began sucking, nudging my breast with his chin while he pulled at my nipple, sending shooting bolts of desire straight down to my crotch as the pressure and suction worked together to drive me into a pulsating arousal.  His other hand was on my other breast, his thumb and forefinger squeezing the nipple hard.  After a few moments he switched, treating the other breast to the gentleness of his lips while his fingers pinched and tugged at the other, forcing a small cry from my lips.  The pain playing at the same time as the pleasure was starting to be more than I could bear.

"Tom..."

I didn't realize my hands were tugging at his shirt, trying to get to his skin so I could feel him against me.  I had a desperate _need_ to be flesh to flesh with him and I couldn't wait.  "Please," I begged, writhing under him as my hands pushed at his shoulders.   _"Please Tom!"_

He seemed to understand what I wanted and lifted up off me long enough to remove his shirt.  When he lowered back down onto me I sighed happily, my eyes still closed, the sensation of his warm skin on mine so soothing and comforting and _erotic_ that I groaned and spread my legs under him.

When he settled in between my thighs I reflexively pushed my hips up, grinding against him, and he responded by thrusting down with a groan. He was still in his jeans but I could feel every inch of him, so hard and solid and radiating heat, even through the thick denim.  He moved up on me so that we were face to face and I finally opened my eyes; he smiled down at me, his own eyes dark with desire but still clear and showing that he was in control.  I couldn't say the same for mine.  I knew my own control had been tossed to him sometime earlier that evening, probably around the time his first smack was landing across my bottom, and for the first time in my life I was okay with having no say in my fate.  He was going to take me however he wanted to and I was going to fall apart in his arms, I could feel it shuddering through my body like the orgasm that I had no doubt was coming.

"I hope you're ready for me, darling," he whispered breathlessly as his hand went down to open his jeans, "because I don't think I can wait another moment to be inside you."  He lifted up off me just enough to push them down, and I reached down to help him slide them over his hips.  My hands went to his ass and gripped his cheeks, squeezing hard, the way I knew he liked it.  I was rewarded with a groan from his throat so deep and gutteral that my body responded in the most primal way possible, soaking my panties through in a gush of slippery wetness that I knew he'd find good use for.

"Fuck, baby," he moaned, finding his way back to my lips with his mouth.  "I want you _so bloody much."_  He dropped his head to the mattress above my shoulder and breathed heavily for a moment, composing himself.  "Give me a minute - I don't want to hurt you, but at the moment I feel like sinking my teeth into the back of your neck and shagging you till one or both of us dies."

I giggled against his shoulder.  "Holy shit, Tom."  I stroked his back and tried to soothe him, but my own arousal was getting out of control as well.  "Take my panties off," I suggested, to distract him long enough for him to get himself reined in.  He chuckled against the side of my neck.

"That would be a _really_ good idea," he agreed, slowly raising up onto his arms to begin a slow crawl down the length of me, kissing all the way down my body as he went.  When he got to my belly he snagged the waist of my panties with his teeth and tugged them down, still moving slowly, dragging them all the way down my legs and slipping them off over my feet before he began kissing his way back up.  I moaned and arched up into him, bumping against his face with my hips as he teased me with agonizingly gentle kisses and licks.  His mouth was over my crotch and I could feel him breathing against it.

"Don't you dare," I moaned, knowing what he was about to do.  "Don't do it, Tom - I'm about to pop as it is and if you so much as _touch_ me down there - "

He didn't listen to me.  I heard a wicked little laugh as his tongue slithered wetly over my folds, licking me from hole to slit clear up to my clit in one long lascivious slurp.  I reached down and grabbed him by his hair but it was too late, he was sucking at my clit and I exploded, loud and messy, screaming incoherently and bucking my hips up while he held me down, his long strong arms locked across my stomach.

I was still coming when he climbed the rest of the way up me and stretched out over me, pressing down with his hips, letting his weight push me into the mattress while I gasped and tried to recover from my still-pulsing orgasm.  I could feel his cock between my legs, the heavy thick weight of it laying against my wet folds, so agonizingly close but still not inside me.  I groaned and grabbed his hips, trying to tug him down closer, but when I opened my eyes finally I saw him looking down at me with a satisfied grin and a wicked gleam in his sexy eyes.  

He was in control, and this was going to happen when he decided it would.

 _"Good girl,"_   he praised me, nudging the side of my face with his nose as he planted warm little kisses along my jawline.  "Now spread your legs wide, sweetheart...it's daddy's turn."

 

 

_To be continued..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone knows the name of the artist responsible for the fanart mentioned, please message it to me as I would love to give her proper credit!


	9. Chapter 9

 

 

I did as I was told, spreading wide for him, raising my knees as he settled in between them.  His cock was still laying against me and I could feel myself throbbing, my body desperately trying to pull him in. He felt it too and teased me, rocking against me, rubbing deliciously against my wetness till I groaned and tried to reach down between us; he grabbed my hand and pulled it up over my head, anchoring my wrist against the mattress.

"No you don't, darling," he chastised, planting warm little kisses across my lips, nibbling at my lower lip and sucking it.  "I've been waiting for this...you just lie still."

He let go and I left my arm up, raising the other with it so that I was stretched completely out under him.  He looked up and grinned, his eyes showing approval.

"I've never seen you this relaxed, sweetheart," he commented as he nuzzled his mouth to my throat.  "Have I finally made you feel comfortable enough with me to merit your complete trust?"

His fingertips tickling softly across my ribcage sent a shiver through me and I smiled.  

"I trust you, Tom," I sighed.  Part of me felt like I could fall asleep right now and be happy and content, completely sated by the orgasm he'd just given me - but he wasn't about to let me, and the pulsing throbs between my legs were beginning to make me uncomfortable with an aching need to finally _finally_ have him inside me.  His mouth working its way heatedly over my breast wasn't helping my situation either.

I felt him nudging against my pussy, his cock just barely slipping into my folds, stopping at my opening to very lightly, very teasingly press against it.  

"Do you want me, sweetheart?"

I groaned, drawing my knees up higher, tilting my pelvis so that more of me rubbed against him.  "I do...I want you baby..."

I heard him let his breath out in a long, slow exhale that ended with him reaching up to take one of my hands from over my head, entwining our fingers and pushing it down into the mattress beside me.  His chest came down against mine and I could feel his heartbeat pounding as his back arched up slightly and his hips rolled down, pushing himself into me slowly, _agonizingly_ slowly, until he'd sunk into me as far as I could take him.

The sensation of him stretching me open was breathtaking.

_"Ohh my precious girl...you feel so good...so beautiful..."_

He was still holding my left hand beside my head as he sank down onto me, letting his full weight come to rest against me for a moment, pushing the air from my lungs till all I was aware of was him and me and that place between us where we were joined, unburdened by breathing or moving or even _existing_.  My other hand found its way to his shoulder and pressed into his flesh as he lifted up off me just enough to allow the breath back into my lungs, his head coming down to press his cheek against mine.  His voice found its way to my ear and I shuddered as his words melted into me between heated kisses.

_"You_

_are_

_perfect..."_

 

He shifted slightly onto his elbow and I knew he was about to start moving.  I didn't want him to yet; I wanted to just keep him like this, inside me, motionless, feeling the satisfying weight of his body on mine. But I knew he must be uncomfortable, needing release desperately, his self control finally at an end.  I couldn't deny him that, not after all the wonderful, unselfish times he'd given me pleasure, asking nothing in return. He'd waited so long.

And now he was inside me and it was  _unbelievable._ His body on mine, so long and lean, tightly muscled and surprisingly heavy, pushing me down into the luxuriously soft mattress...his skin so warm and smooth and supple under my hands, his neverending legs rubbing against mine, his cock resting in me, so hard and solid and big, so much bigger than I had expected, stretching me and holding me open, filling me completely, twitching with desire as it touched me deep inside...his soft lips kissing me, his mellifluous voice arousing me with soft words, his beautiful eyes closed in anticipatory ecstasy.   _How could I let this moment go?_

 

He lifted his head and looked into my eyes.  There was a look there of hesitation, which confused me until I realized how tightly I was gripping his shoulder.  My other hand, clasped firmly in his, was grasping his fingers.  Everything about me was tensed.

"Am I hurting you Anna?"

His voice was almost pained, and I knew it was as much from holding back as from his concern for me.  I shook my head and made a conscious effort to relax, but the anticipation of feeling him move inside me coupled with the dread of this perfect moment ending was sending mixed signals to my nervous system.  He smiled and lowered his head to my throat, understanding silently what I needed.  His lips began moving slowly down my neck, each pause marked by a small suck that left my skin tingling.  By the time he reached my nipple and began caressing it into hardness with his tongue, all the tension had left my body.

I wasn't aware that I was pushing my hips up until I felt him respond by pushing down.  That was all it took.  He let go of my hand and I circled his neck with my arms, tangling my fingers in his thick wavy hair as he propped himself on his elbows, taking the weight of his upper body off me while shifting so that all his mobility was in his hips.  His breathing quickened, one hand coming down to my hip to push underneath my bottom, lifting me, sliding down the back of my thigh till he finally pulled my leg up and wrapped it around his back.

His first thrust took my breath away; not because it was sudden or hard, but because it felt so incredible as his cock pulled back and then slid forward.  He was filling me so tightly, so snugly, that the friction was almost unbearable from the very first push.  I gasped into his ear and lifted my other leg to rest my foot against his hip, letting him push me wide open.

It all rushed out of us then, the pent up desire and heated arousal and the frustrating delay, driving us into one another with an abandon that slammed the heavy mahogany headboard into the wall.  Tom wrapped me tightly in his arms, cradling me gently while his thrusts shoved me deep into the plush bedding.  Everything we did was a study in opposites and contrasts; tender kisses mingled with impassioned bites, loving strokes followed by rough clenches, sweet whispered words alternating with harsh curses hissed under our breath.  His hands explored me lovingly before sliding down to slap the side of my bottom, making me yelp and drive my hips up against him, heightening everything, keeping each other off balance and off guard until he snaked a hand down between us to massage my clit.  I lost control and bit him, hard on the shoulder, and he responded by stroking me harder and faster till I arched up off the bed and clung to him, desperately gasping his name as I climaxed violently.  His breath caught in his throat and a strangled cry broke from deep in his chest.  Without thinking, still gasping and heaving from my own orgasm, I took over control for the first time.

Clutching his hair roughly at the back of his head, I pressed my lips to his ear and ordered him to come for me.

Not a heartbeat passed before he obeyed, harshly whispering _"Yes baby, yes..."_ as he finally lost control and let go.

His orgasm was as intense as mine and he rocked his hips hard into me, thrusting as deep as he could, burying his face against my shoulder while I reached down to grab his ass and squeeze.  He released into me with a shuddering gasp and I held him tight, stroking his back, whispering to him soothingly.  My sudden boldness shocked me but it felt good watching him lose himself, letting me take the lead even if it was for just a brief few moments.  He'd always been the dominant one in our relationship.  I had never considered the possibility that he might do just as well in a submissive role.

 

His submissiveness lasted only for the few long moments that it took him to recover from his climax.  He lifted his head to look down at me and I lay there, happy to be the sub once again, peering up at him while I chewed my lip.  His eyes fell to my mouth for a moment and he smiled, still breathing heavily, his chest heaving so hard that it pressed against mine with each breath that he inhaled.

No words passed between us.  We looked into each other's eyes, smiling, until he kissed my nose and murmured _"I could love you so easily"_ as his hands came to both sides of my head to hold me.  His lips found mine and he brought us both back to a heated arousal with just a kiss - a long, deep, slow, open mouthed kiss full of deep tonguing and lip nibbling and whispered words that didn't need to make any sense.  He hadn't even pulled out of me yet before he was hardening again, my body responding with a quick wetness that let him start moving again almost immediately.

He suddenly sat up on his knees, pulling me up with him, keeping us joined while he settled me on his thighs.  I slipped my legs around his back and held onto his shoulders while he bounced me on his lap, hitting me so deep inside that I cried out from the sudden, almost painful intensity of it.  He dropped his head to my chest and sucked a nipple into his mouth, teasing it mercilessly while I dropped my head back and groaned.

"You doing okay, sweetheart?" he asked as he made his way to the other breast, nipping at my skin along the way.  "Do you need a rest?"

I had to struggle to answer him; I took too long and he swatted my bottom with his warm hand, letting it stay on my cheek after contact to rub in small circles on my skin.  I managed to hold in the yelp that rose in my throat and finally choked out a reply.

"I'm good...we can rest later."

He chuckled against my breast, the vibration of his lips tickling my nipple and making me arch my back.  "Are you getting greedy, my darling? So brave suddenly...thinking you can boss me."  He pulled his head back and gave me a teasingly disapproving look, letting me know my little display of dominance earlier hadn't escaped his notice.  He smacked my bottom again, and this time I couldn't hold back my yelp.  "Be good or our unborn children will remember the next one when they're grown."

My eyes went wide and I stared at him, but he was preoccupied with repositioning me so that he could move me more easily on his hips.  I decided to let it go, along with his earlier slip.  I knew he couldn't have meant either of them.  Just things you say in the heat of the moment.

I bent forward and licked his nipple while he was shifting me, waiting to see if he liked it; he shuddered just a little and his eyes drifted shut, so I took that as a sign to continue.  I moved my mouth across his chest till I reached the other one, giving it a gentle nip with my teeth, then when he didn't protest I closed my mouth around it and gave it a little suck.  He hissed through his teeth and grabbed me by the hips.

"It's time to wreck this room, baby," he growled, lifting me up and slamming me back down on his lap, driving his cock deep into me, making us both curse in a raunchy mixture of pleasure and pain that had us screaming and sweating and clawing at each other until we came again in a noisy mess of tangled legs and bitemarks, collapsing on the tousled bed to catch our breath when we were done.

"Stay inside me a little longer," I begged him, holding tightly to his neck as he lay on top of me.  He held me loosely in his arms and rolled us both over so that I rested against his chest, our bodies still joined.  

"As long as you wish, my naughty little girl."

 

As I'd suspected he would, he slipped into his daddy kink and spent a little while rubbing and caressing me, prepping me for a spanking.  I'd gotten where it excited me so much that I became instantly aroused the moment he started talking to me that way.  Although he referred to himself using that title, I'd never used it myself - but when he tugged me up against him and rubbed my bare bottom while hissing into my ear what he was going to do to my sweet little behind, I tremblingly replied,  _"Yes daddy."_

The smile that came across his face was one I'd never seen before.  It was somewhere between devious pleasure and adoration, and he reached up with one hand to stroke my face after I said it.  "Such a good little girl," he whispered gently.  "You make your daddy very happy."

And then he laid me over his knee and gave me the gentlest, most loving spanking you could ever imagine.

 

 

_To be continued..._

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

 

We kissed for what seemed like hours.  Our mouths crashed together in an almost violent mating of lips and tongues and teeth, biting and sucking and chewing and pushing together until we both tasted blood but neither of us knew whose it was.  We didn't care.  We kissed until our lips were bruised and our tongues were swollen from being sucked, and when we finally broke apart we found ourselves coming back together again to start over, softer this time, the hard heated passion finally eased and a tender affection for each other taking its place.

"I don't want you to go," he finally whispered, his voice agonized, against my lips.  "Please let me find a way to keep you here."

We had been talking for the last few minutes, taking a break from wrecking the suite and each other.  The new callsheets for the next week had been posted at the set and my final scene was there, seven days away. Our time together now had an expiration date.

"I can't."

"Why not?  Please Anna - I can find another job for you on the set, anything to keep you here till I'm finished.  Please."  He reached out and touched my face.  "I have five more weeks to go.  I don't want to be without you."

I gently pushed his hand away, suddenly feeling the need to separate us, if only for a few minutes.  "You know I can't, Tom.  I have to get back, my classes will be starting and I need to get stuff done."

"Take the semester off.  Go back in the Spring."

I shook my head.  "I have to finish my courses and I really need to do it _now._  I need to wrap it up so I can get my surgery done and then get another job - a  _real_  job, not simulated porn."

Tom looked hurt for a moment.  "Anna, this  _is_  a real job."  He let his eyes fall to my mouth, where I was chewing on my lip.  "There's nothing wrong with what you do."

"I don't want to spend my life getting naked so other people can take the credit.  This is probably the  _least_  fulfilling job ever created as far as a person's self esteem."

His brow suddenly furrowed.   _"What surgery?"_

Shit, I hadn't told him.  There'd been no reason to...my plan all along had been to do my job, do it well, get paid and go home.  I hadn't expected to get involved with anyone that I would need to explain anything about my life to.

"Are you okay, Anna?  What's wrong, why do you need surgery?"

"I'm okay, I promise," I assured him quickly.  "It's nothing major.  I have cysts on my ovaries, I need them removed if I ever want to have kids."  His face relaxed and he seemed visibly relieved.  "That's why I took this job, I needed funds for my operation and tuition for classes."

He stared at me for a long moment.  "You're sure you're alright?  That's really all it is?"

I nodded.  "That's really all it is."

"Does it hurt?  You should have told me Anna, I'd have been more careful with you - "

"Tom, I'm not delicate."  I gave him a frown, not really wanting to be having this discussion with him.  It was private, it was my own business, not his.  "You haven't hurt me, I promise."

He sighed, but I could tell he wasn't going to give up on this.  "Will you at least consider it, Anna?"  He leaned forward, unashamedly fixing his most pleading eyes on me.  "For me?"

I just sat there looking at him, almost angry that he was doing this to me.  He knew how important it was to me that I finish my degree.  I had waited until I was nearly thirty to go back to school, and now that I was so close to finishing it was all I could think about.  I'd told him all this early on, and he had encouraged me not to let anything stop me from succeeding.

And now he was trying to be the thing to stop me.  Just so I could keep him company for five more weeks while he finished the movie.  

I wasn't sure what to think and it aggravated me.

"I don't want to be - "  I hesitated, knowing what I needed to say but flinching inwardly at the thought of saying it.  It was going to hurt him and I could already see his face.  "I don't want to put my life on hold to be your whore, Tom."

He looked like I'd slapped him.  I instantly regretted it, knowing I could have chosen a better, less harsh word, but it was honest and it was how I felt so I left it as it was.  His eyes watered up and he just sat staring at me in shock.

There was a long, uncomfortable pause where neither of us said anything, neither of us moved, neither of us looked away.  And then he sighed, and his voice wavered just slightly when he spoke.

"Is that what you think you are to me."

I finally pulled my eyes away from his and looked down.  "No.  I know I'm not.  But I don't want to become that."  

He didn't say anything else for a long while, just sat looking at me, leaning forward with his hands dangling from his knees.  

When he finally spoke again, his voice had taken on an icy edge that startled me.

"Have I ever treated you like a whore?"

I shook my head immediately - he had never, not even for a moment, made me feel like anything less than his equal.  I opened my mouth to answer him but he cut me off.

"I brought you here because I wanted our first time making love together to be on a soft bed, in a nice place where you would be comfortable, not in a tiny room in a cramped little trailer on the set with a security van parked ten feet away and extras walking around outside the whole time.  So we could have privacy and be warm and I could concentrate on you without hearing everything going on in the lot.  So you wouldn't feel like - "

He paused, finally looking away, his eyes bright and wet with unshed tears.  When he looked back at me again I almost couldn't look at him.

"So you wouldn't feel like a whore."

"Tom, I - "

He stood up and took my hand, pulling me up out of my chair.  I stumbled at the abruptness of it, but he just turned and pulled me after him toward the bed.  "What are you doing?"

He stopped when we reached the bed and turned to me, gripping my shoulders with his hands.

"Do you want to be here with me?"

"What?  Yes, I - of course I -"

He pulled me roughly to him and silenced the rest of my sentence with his mouth, pushing hard against mine in a deep kiss as he bent me backward and untied the sash of my robe.  He let the whole thing fall to the floor and lifted me up onto the bed, immediately covering my body with his before I could move.   _"Then be here with me,"_ he growled against my lips.  

 

His hands moved quickly over me, touching me the way he knew I would respond to, kissing me feverishly till I overcame my surprise and confusion and began returning his urgent caresses.  He didn't say anything for a long time, just made love to me with his mouth and hands until he felt that I was ready to accept him.  As he positioned himself over me and pressed his rigid cock against my opening, he finally spoke to me; his voice was strong and unwavering this time.

_"Do you want me."_

I didn't hesitate, murmuring _yes_ against his ear as I spread my legs under him.  

_"Are you certain?"_

_"Yes."_

He pressed a long, slow, deeply passionate kiss to my lips as he pushed himself inside me, a heavy groan making its way up his throat to vibrate against my mouth while his hips thrust forward to bury his body deep in mine.  When he was seated to the hilt, he raised his head and looked down at me, his eyes more angry and determined now than sad.

"Do you feel like a whore now?"

I met his gaze and shook my head.  "No."

He pulled his hips back and thrust forward again, making me lose my breath and my bearings for a moment while he kept his eyes locked to mine.

"How about now?  Do you feel like a whore now?"

I whimpered a little, but answered "No Tom."

He lowered his head to my breast and very gently kissed my nipple as he slid slowly in and out of me a few times.

_"Now?  Are you a whore now?"_

I was crying now, I couldn't stop myself.  I shook my head but he wanted to hear the words.

"Say it Anna.  Are you my whore?  Is that what you are to me?"

My voice choked with sobs, I whispered _"No."_

He stopped talking then, his attention turning toward coaxing pleasure from my body while I cried quietly into his shoulder.  He kissed me tenderly, moving gently inside me, his fingers stroking arousal from between my legs while he soothed me wordlessly with soft caresses.  When I came, he held me till I was done, kissing me like I was precious to him.

I prayed he wouldn't ask me again to stay, because in that moment I knew I would give in and agree to anything he wanted.

But he didn't.  When he finally spoke to me again, he took my face in his hands and looked me directly in the eyes for a long moment.  He didn't look angry anymore, but that determined edge was still there.

"I never want to hear you use that word again," he told me in a voice tinged heavily with a warning not to argue.  "Never about yourself.   _Never about us."_

I nodded, trying to say yes out loud but my voice was caught in my throat.  He stroked my cheeks with his thumbs, smudging my tears away.  

 

I was standing in the bathroom wiping the steam away from the mirror when he came back in.  He'd showered with me, holding me tightly from behind as the hot water rained down on us, and after what seemed like only a few seconds of self control we had given in to our urges once again and had sex against the frosted glass door.  It had been rough and quick and dirty, and when we were done he had kissed me with a desperate abandon that made me weak in the stomach and knees.  It was obvious something had shifted in the dynamics of our relationship, but I couldn't pinpoint where the shift was or what it meant.  As he soaped me up and washed me, paying special attention to cleaning his come from between my legs, I just watched him.  Neither of us had said much since he had set me straight on our disagreement, and he seemed content to just take care of me without really saying anything else.

But now he was standing behind me, just looking at me in the mirror, his face a confusing mask of so many jumbled emotions that my heart suddenly hurt for him.

"Anna, I - "

He stopped, his mouth still open like he was trying to continue, but then suddenly he seemed to think better of it and just smiled at me.

"Would you like to go out to eat, or shall I call room service in?"

I didn't want to be seen by anyone but him.  "Room service.  Is that okay with you?"

He gripped my shoulders and squeezed gently, planting a warm kiss against the back of my neck as I towel dried my hair.

"Room service sounds perfect.  We have cable."  He wiggled his eyebrows and I was finally able to laugh a little.

"Please don't make me watch Skinemax.  I get enough of that at work every day."

His expression went dark and he looked at me over my shoulder in the mirror.  I felt his fingers dig into my arms just the slightest bit, then he let go and his face went blank.  "I'll go call in our food.  What would you like, surf or turf?"

He left the bathroom and I stood there, feeling like I'd done something terrible again.  

"Steak, rare please."

 

We laid up in the big bed watching Adult Swim, eating our dinner and debating over whether Hank or Dean was the smarter Venture brother.  It was the first time we'd really spent any time together that didn't involve our clothes being off, either in front of the cameras or elsewhere.  He laughed easily and often and I felt comfortable with him.  Our previous conversation wasn't brought up again, and he acted like nothing had happened - but when he looked at me, his eyes quickly became soft, almost sad, and I knew he wanted more than anything to convince me to stay with him.  To his credit, he didn't say a word.

When we were finished eating he put our plates on the floor and settled in on his back, opening his arms to me.  "Come here sweetheart."  

I climbed up onto his chest, stretching out so that I was laying completely on his body, sighing happily as he pushed my robe off so that I was wearing only my underwear.  He held me, slipping his arms around my back, sliding one hand down into the back of my panties to stroke me.  His long fingers curved around my bottom and reached my pussy, pushing slowly into me, pumping in and out as I snuggled up to his neck. We lay like that with him watching TV over my head, stroking me gently, for a long delicious while.

 

We finally slept, but never for long stretches - either I would wake up and nudge into Tom till he smiled sleepily and started nudging back, or he would wake up and climb on top of me so that I awoke to the marvelous sensation of him slipping his cock into me.  When we did sleep, we were wrapped up in each other, arms and legs tangled and tucked and mouths nuzzling, my hair tickling his nose, his whiskers scratching my cheek.  And when we finally woke up the next morning, spooned snugly into one another and breathing almost in unison, neither of us wanted to get up until we'd made love again.  He gave his hips a little thrust against my bottom to see what kind of reaction he'd get and I pushed back, groaning with the kind of pleasantly sore longing that you get after a long night of vigorous screwing.

It was all the encouragement he needed to push my leg forward and situate himself against me from behind so that he could enter me without really moving either of us.  I knew he had to be tired, and it showed in his lovemaking - he took me slowly, almost lazily, letting me push my hips back against him so that the thrusting duties were equally shared between us.  It was sweet and gentle and he stroked his fingertips up and down my hip and side tenderly, kissing my back, massaging my breasts, squeezing my bottom.  Everything was lazy and languorous and I just wanted to stay there, nestled into him, forever.

 

It was almost noon when we finally left the room, wearing the same clothes we'd arrived in.  Neither of us had thought to grab anything to bring with us, so all I had with me was my purse - and since hasty retreats to luxury hotels in the middle of the night weren't in my usual repertoire, there wasn't a lot in my bag for me to put myself back together with.  I dumped it out on the bed, searching for lipstick, mascara, anything to make myself presentable, grumbling when all I could find was a tube of blackberry lip balm.  Tom was watching me with an amused look on his face.

"What?" I asked, shooting him an annoyed look.  "You roll out of bed looking like a movie star.  I need a little help."

He was shaking his head, grinning.  "You look beautiful and you know it.  Now stop fretting and lets go, I'm starving."

I sighed and gathered my things up, stuffing them back into my bag.  Tom must have noticed I wasn't feeling my best, because he came around the bed and hugged me tight, kissing the top of my head as I snuggled into his chest.  "You really are beautiful darling.  Even after having been shagged ragged all night and half the morning."  He brought his hands up to my face and kissed me tenderly on the lips. _"Especially_ after having been shagged ragged all night and half the morning."

 

He kissed me in the elevator, groping my breasts and pushing me playfully against the back wall as the floors dinged by.  I was giggling when the doors finally opened, leaning into him as we walked out into the astonishingly crowded lobby.  

"What's going on?" I asked Tom, suddenly nervous.  He looked around for a moment and shrugged.  

"Must be someone famous staying here, looks like they've been discovered.  Poor bastard, whoever they are."

I noticed people were beginning to look at us.  

Tom was immediately recognized, and within seconds heads started whipping around to get a closer look.  Someone said his name, and the entire crowd turned, cameras coming up.

I quickly stepped back into the elevator, trying to hide, panic gripping me when I realized we were going to be not only seen but photographed together.  There would be headlines, nasty gossip rag comments, our guilty faces plastered all over the internet - not to mention potential damage to Tom's career reputation when some snoopy 'reporter' did their homework and found out he was shagging a body double on his latest movie set.  His publicist would deny it, but the pictures would be there.

He turned to look at me, his eyes showing confusion as I pulled away and ducked into the corner.  He looked back out into the lobby, then held his hand out to me with an expression of understanding.

"Come on darling.  Don't be shy."

I shook my head, reaching for the close door button, but he stopped me with a strong hand firmly wrapped around my wrist.  "You can do this, sweetheart.  I'll talk to them.  You just hold onto my arm and look beautiful."  He smiled his most reassuring smile, but it did nothing to make me feel better.

"It'll be all over the internet before lunch," I whined, resisting as he pulled me toward him.  He nodded and raised an eyebrow at me.

"Yes, and what of it?  Are you embarrassed for anyone to know you're sleeping with me?"

"What?  No!  I meant -  _you,_  it'll cause trouble for you!"

He gave me a frustrated shake of his head.  "Anna I'm a grown man, I don't have to hide my girlfriends and sneak around like a bloody teenager.  If I didn't want to be seen with you I wouldn't have brought you to a very public place!"   His voice sounded angry suddenly and his grip on my wrist tightened.  "Now dry your tears and lets go."

People were trying to come into the elevator, and Tom apologized to them as he tugged me out behind him.  

Less than ten feet into the lobby we were approached by several photographers and people who I assumed were reporters.  I stayed behind Tom, and he did his best to shield me from them as he answered their questions and kept us moving swiftly toward the doors.  I kept my head down, my face burning hot, thinking we'd made it with relatively little damage until someone yelled, "Tom, who's your lady friend?"

We were at the doors.  We could have kept going, gotten in our cab and been gone without the question ever being answered.  But Tom turned, pulled me up beside him and slipped his arm around my waist.  

"Give them a smile, sweetheart.  Show them how lovely you are."

 

 

_To be continued..._


	11. Chapter 11

 

 

Once we were in our cab, Tom closed the door and waved to the photographers that had followed us out into the rain, still smiling brightly.  He still had a firm grip on me as he told the driver our destination, though his smile suddenly vanished; when he sat back I yanked my hand away and glared at him.  

"Don't you _ever_ do anything like that to me again!"

He just looked at me with no expression on his face.  I felt my eyes tearing up but I was too mad to let myself cry.  "Why'd you parade me in front of them like that? _Why?!"_

His face finally softened and he looked down, sighing.  "You haven't figured it out, have you?"

"Figured what out?  That you're pissed and throwing a tantrum because I said no when you asked me to stay?  Because yeah, this is _exactly_ how to get me to change my mind!"

He glanced at the driver and then looked out the window, his brow furrowed like he was deep in thought.  I scooted away from him and turned to look out my own window, unable to hold back my tears anymore. But I'd be damned if I'd let him see me shedding them.

After several long moments of silence, he finally spoke again.

"Darling, tell me something."

I wiped at my face with the back of my hand and didn't reply.

"Anna."

I didn't want to talk to him, but I knew he wasn't going to let me off easy.

"What."

"Tell me why you're upset."

I huffed disdainfully - he knew why I was upset.  "Because you made me do the walk of shame in front of all those people and then you made me smile at them and _fuck you Tom you did what you said you wouldn't do!"_

His jaw clenched but he just kept looking at me.  "And what's that, exactly?"

"You made me feel like...like..."  I couldn't say it, he'd made me promise never to use that word again.  My voice dropped to a whisper and I put my forehead against the cool window.   _"Why'd you do that."_

I felt his warm hand on my shoulder, pulling me gently back toward him.  I knew how persuasive he could be, so resisting seemed like more effort than I had the energy for.  I let him pull me up against him, his arms encircling me as he tucked my head up under his chin and hugged me close.  

"I would never try to shame you, darling.  That wasn't to get back at you."  He tightened his arms around me.  "That was to show you that you belong next to me, not hiding in an elevator or behind me with your head down."

I didn't feel like arguing with him.  I could feel his heartbeat against my cheek, beating so fast and hard that I had to wonder how he was keeping his voice so calm.  He sighed and his tone changed.

"Did you truly not want to be seen with me?" he asked, sounding hurt.

I pulled out of his arms so I could look at him.  "What?"

His eyes looked as hurt as his voice had sounded.  "You were so adamant about not wanting them to see you.  And this walk of shame nonsense - what the hell is that about, Anna?  You can spend the night with me but when the sun comes up you want to sneak out so nobody knows we were together?"  His eyes were watering up and I hoped to god he wouldn't cry.  This was all wrong.

"What - no, Tom!  You don't understand - "

A single tear fell down his left cheek and he made no move to wipe it away.  He genuinely looked like his feelings were hurt.

I put my face in my hands.  "Shit.  This is not...oh dammit Tom, this...you're in my place and I'm in yours!"

He looked confused.  I wasn't sure how to explain myself without making it worse.  

"You're famous, Tom.  People watch everything you do.  I'm nobody, you don't need a bunch of paparazzi photos of me following you out of a hotel plastered all over creation."  I groaned and put my forehead on my knees.  "Your PA is going to kill us both for this."

He still looked lost.  "You're saying I shouldn't want anyone to see me with you - because you're not famous?"

I gave him a pleading look, begging him silently to understand.  

"That's bullshit, Anna.  How can you think you're not good enough to be with me?  Because that's what you're saying, isn't it?"  He sighed heavily and reached for my hand.  I let him take it, feeling like he just wasn't getting what I was saying, but I was too tired and upset to keep trying to explain.  "Baby listen to me.  I'm going to say some things that are very important and I want you to listen closely.  I know you're upset right now but please...just try.  For me."

I immediately felt defensive at those words.   _For me_.  He'd said that when he was trying to convince me to ditch my semester to stay with him.  But I nodded and didn't say anything - that particular argument didn't need to be rehashed, not right now.

He inhaled deeply, like he was nervous.  He pulled my hand up to his lips and pressed it there for a long moment.

"Sweetheart, I don't know what happened to you in your past that makes you think less of yourself than you should.  I know someone hurt you, and I've seen fear and pain in your eyes when I say or do certain things, but you've always held yourself together with a strength that makes me proud of you.  I know you've had to do some things that were difficult for you, both on set...and alone with me."  He waited for me to look at him and the worry etched into his face tore at my heart.  "I've seen panic flicker in your expression for the briefest of moments before you bravely dive right into whatever scared you.  It's been impressive watching you."  He switched to a smile, but it seemed more for my benefit than sincere.  "I think you're just about the bravest person I've ever known."

A hard lump was coming up in my throat and I felt like I was going to choke if I didn't do something.  But I still couldn't let myself cry in front of him.  I wasn't there yet, I could be physically naked with him with ease but emotional nakedness wasn't coming so easily.

"I meant what I said," he continued.  "If I didn't want the world to see me with you, I wouldn't have brought you out in public.  I'd have just kept carrying on with you on the set where nobody could see us, or I'd have taken you in and out through the employees entrance.  But I didn't.  I took you in the front door and back out through the same door, in front of everyone.  Because I _want_ to be seen with you."  He finally swiped at his face with the back of his hand, but another tear trickled down where the first one had been.  "When you refused to come out of the elevator, when it became obvious that _you_ didn't want to be seen with _me_ \- "

I shook my head, feeling like this was going all wrong.  "No, Tom, that's not it at all - "

He cut me off with a finger against my lips.  "Let me finish, Anna.  When you got so upset about being seen, it felt like a knife in my heart.  All I could think to do was to force you to do it - which was wrong, I know.  I'm sorry."  He looked ashamed for a moment.  "I thought if I showed you that you belong there, next to me, in front of everyone, that you would feel differently.  Apparently I went about it ass backwards."

I pulled his hand away from my face.  "I didn't _not_ want to be seen with you, I was just worried what would happen to you because of it.  I don't have anything to lose, but you do.  And I know this is going to sound a little farfetched at this point in time, but...I'm shy, Tom...maybe not with you, but with strangers...and that many of them, all up on us like that...it panicked me."  

"I know, sweetheart.  I'm sorry I made you do that.  I forget sometimes that everyone isn't used to crowds screaming at them and flashes going off in their faces."  He gave me a sad little smile.  "Can you forgive me for that?"

I nodded, maybe a little too quickly.

"I'm sorry Tom, I didn't mean to make you feel bad.  I thought you were punishing me for our argument."

He looked confused.  "Argument?"

"About me leaving."

He nodded, understanding.  "No, darling.  If I was going to punish you for something, you'd be over my knee in private, not dragged through a hotel lobby in front of cameras."  He gave me a little grin but I refused to be charmed.  Not yet.  "I admit that was a hard defeat to accept, but I understand.  You have a life to get back to, I can't expect you to drop everything for me...no matter how badly I want you to."

_Here we go,_ I thought.   _The rehash._  "Why do you want me to stay?" I asked, a little more angrily than I intended.  "You could just find another - " 

I stopped mid sentence, realizing too late that I was headed into dark waters.  His eyes went steely.

"Another what?  Finish your sentence Anna.  Another _what?_    Companion?  Bedwarmer?   _Whore?"_ He spat the last word out like it tasted bitter on his tongue.  I flinched and looked down at my lap.  He was mad now.

"Doesn't sound very nice, does it?"  He put his hand under my chin and turned my face to him, making me look at him.  "It _hurts_ just a bit, doesn't it?  I want to know where that came from.  What would make you say that about yourself, what would make you say that about _me?_   Because it says just as much about what you think of me - that you don't think I care about you as anything more than someone to fuck.  And you _better_ know that's not true, Anna."  His finger under my chin was trembling.  " _Tell me why you said that."_

I was about to start crying but I was still fighting it back successfully - I knew if I had to start talking, though, that I would lose it.  I shook my head, hoping he would let it go, but he didn't.  

_"Tell me."_  His breathing was faster than it should have been and I felt a little bit scared.  His voice had gone low and menacing when he finally said, "Was it him?"

That broke it - I started sobbing uncontrollably, unable to breathe, choking on my own tears.  He gathered me to him and held me still until I calmed, telling me it was alright, even though I knew it wasn't.  But it always sounded good coming from him.  I felt stupid when I finally got myself under control, but when I saw that his face had softened again I felt better.  He held my face in his hands and pressed his forehead against mine.

"What did he do to you?"

I tried to shake my head, but his hands held me still.  "Tom, I - "

"How did he hurt you, Anna?  What did he do?"

I sucked in a deep breath.  I was shaking.  He took off his coat and put it around me, pulling me close.  "Take your time baby.  I'm not mad.  I just need to understand."

I closed my eyes and turned my back to him.  "I can't look at you when I say this," I whispered.  He put his hands on my shoulders and gave them a slight squeeze, then took his hands away.

"Okay sweetheart.  Whatever you need."

I stared out the window for a long while before I took a deep breath and started talking.  I told him about the relationship I'd been in that had ended less than a year ago, that had started out bright and beautiful and quickly turned dark and nightmarish.  About how he'd been controlling and forcefully dominant, and how he belittled me if I didn't do exactly as he told me.  How that belittlement had turned to emotional abuse and finally to physical as his mental state deteriorated, and how I was afraid, stupidly, to leave him.  And how, in the end, I had quit school at his demand, and then mockingly been called his whore because I gave up what I wanted, to do as I was told.

After I finished talking, Tom waited a long time before he said anything.  When he did finally speak, his voice was very quiet.

"So when I asked you to give up school and stay with me...shit.  I'm sorry, Anna."  He touched my back, very lightly, and when I didn't pull away he scooted close and slipped an arm around me.  "Can I ask you something else?"  I nodded, wiping my face with the back of my sleeve.  

"Yes."

"What you said about your job.  You seem almost embarrassed about it, you said it's simulated porn, all that.  Is that how you really feel about it?  I try, Anna, I try really hard to keep you from feeling like just a naked body when we're on the set."  He pressed his face into the side of my neck.  "Is that from him, too?"

"Yes...he said going back to school was pointless because all I'd ever be any good at is getting naked.  That it was all I could do with any real skill."  I choked on a sob and accidentally spit on the window, which made me laugh.  Tom hugged me tighter and breathed warmly against my neck.

"I am so so sorry baby...I'm so sorry."

"Look at me now.  Apparently he was right.  Getting naked for a living and quitting school again for a guy."  I started crying again and Tom turned me toward him hurriedly.

"Hey, stop that - you're doing a job, a legitimate job, for the sole purpose of paying your way through school.  That is admirable, sweetheart.  This isn't some sleazy porno being shot in a basement in LA, you're in a big film with a big director and a big budget and you are needed and you are very very good at what you do - and do you know what that is?  You do something that the star, a highly paid big name actress, is too chicken to do herself. You've got the bravery and guts to do it because you aren't depending on anyone else to take care of you.  You're doing it all yourself.  That's impressive, Anna.  And you should never think poorly of yourself for it."

I was really choking on my sobs now, but he ignored it and kept going.  "I think just maybe you took this job as a way to flip him off.  You're doing what he insulted you about because you _chose_ to and you're using it as a way to do the things that he made you quit doing.  That's pretty damn brilliant if you ask me."  He smiled and his eyes were lit up, still wet with tears but something else too, something warm.  "As for quitting for me - not going to happen.  I wouldn't let you, not now.  I want you with me, yes, but not at that cost.  Never at the cost of your self esteem."  He held me close to him, stroking my hair.  "You're nobody's whore, Anna.  You weren't his and you aren't mine."

I felt much lighter, somehow, listening to his heartbeat and feeling how much it had slowed.  "What am I?"

"To me?"

"Yes."

He was quiet for a moment, thinking.  "You're...you're my lover, Anna.  My friend and my sweetheart.  You're my darling baby girl and you're...you're important to me."  

I pressed tightly to him, acutely aware of the cold, hoping the warmth in his eyes would spread to me if I got closer.

"Is it enough?" he asked quietly.

"Is what enough?"

"Being all those things.  Is it enough to make you want to be with me?"

"Tom, I - "  I felt panicked again, suddenly trapped with his arms around me and no place to go.

"I'm not asking you to quit school or give up your goals," he added hurriedly.  "I'm asking if there's room for me in your life when you're done.  Or maybe even on weekends until then."

I jerked my head up and looked at him; he wasn't grinning, teasing like I'd thought he must be.  His face was serious.  "But - "

"But what?  Why is it so difficult for you to grasp the concept of this being a relationship?"  He lifted my face to make me look at him again.  "I'm starting to feel like _I'm_ the whore."

I stared at him, not sure what he was saying or what he expected me to say.  He could see my confusion and I could tell it frustrated him.  "You don't think I care for you?" I asked incredulously.

"Do you?'

"Of course I do.  I don't sleep with just anyone.  I'm very careful since...since him.  If I didn't care about you I'd have never let you touch me."

"And you knew it would be okay to sleep with me.  That I wouldn't hurt you the way he did.  That I'd take care of your feelings."

"Yes."

"So how is this not a relationship?  What part of this sounds like a casual hookup that we can walk away from in seven days?"

I shook my head.  "None of it."

"Then why are you going to do that very thing?"

"You know why, Tom...I can't do that to myself again..."

"And I don't want you to.  I'm not asking you to.  I _wouldn't_ ask you to."  He stroked my cheek with the back of his finger.  "But you could ask _me_ to."

 

 

_To be continued..._


	12. Chapter 12

 

I stared at him, confused, everything whirling inside my head but none of it solidifying into anything that made sense.  

"I don't know what you're asking of me," I finally choked out.  He was looking at me with the saddest face I thought I'd ever seen, and it was breaking my heart.  "Just tell me what you want me to say because I'm feeling really sick and I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

A little smile broke on his lips and he stroked my hair.  "Just ask me."

"Ask you what?"

"Ask me to drop everything to be with you."

I leaned back to put some space between us, shaking my head.  "No.  I didn't like it when you did it to me, I won't do it to you."

His smile broadened.  "But that's the difference, isn't it sweetheart?  You didn't like it.  But I would love it.  I _want_ you to ask me - because if you can honestly ask it of me, then you want to be with me enough to request something you know you can't have...on the odd chance that you might just get it."

"You want me to ask you to give up everything to be with me."

"Yes."

"And why would you do that?"

"You're operating on the assumption that I'd say yes."

"I'm getting ready to tell you to fuck off, Tom."

He laughed, squeezing my hand as he pulled it into his lap.  "Darling, just indulge me.  Please?  I'm trying to make a point here and you're not cooperating."  He gave me a comically warning look.  "And up till now you've been such a good girl.  Your defiant streak is showing."

I sighed.  If this was a game, I was getting tired of it, and I didn't know if he was being a dick or if this was actually going somewhere.  I decided to just go along with him on the hopes that he would either stop or come to the point soon.

"Then...drop everything and be with me," I said, barely hiding my exasperation.

He smiled. "Be sure that you mean it, Anna - never ask for something you don't really want."

"I do...I mean it, Tom."  After I said it, I felt strangely calm.  It was only then that I realized I wasn't just saying it for him - I really, truly _did_  mean it.  "I know it can't happen, but I really do want it."

"So did I, when I asked.  And maybe I knew it couldn't happen, too.  But I asked."  His voice dropped.   _"I wanted it bad enough to ask for it."_

Shit.  I finally got it, what he was trying to say.  I suddenly felt bad, really bad, about how I'd reacted - I had hurt his feelings, maybe unfairly.  Definitely unfairly.  He'd had no way of knowing about my past, and on top of that, I had totally rejected him without letting him know how badly I wished I could say _yes._

"I'm sorry, Tom."

His arm slipped around me again and he felt warm, so comfortable and warm, when I let him pull me against him.  "Not another thought about it, sweetheart," he whispered into my hair.  "But my answer is yes."

 

"Yes?"

I tried to sit up and look at him but he held me tight, stroking my hair.  "What do you mean, yes?"

"I mean yes.  Stop squirming Anna, you haven't sat still for two seconds yet on this entire trip."

"Yes what, though?"

"Yes, I'll drop everything and be with you.  You asked, right?  Well - maybe not totally drop _everything,_ I still have some engagements that I'm committed to as far as promotion and then of course there are red carpet events that I have to show up at - oh, and I'll be needing a date for those, by the way - but as far as the next year, I'm pretty much free.  No projects, no films. I'm taking some time off."

His heartbeat against my ear was steady, but thumping hard.  He was waiting for me to accept or reject him.  The casual tone to his voice was hiding the fact that he was afraid I was going to say no to him again; I could feel it in the tense, tight set of his muscles.

I couldn't think of any reason to say no.  There was none.  "Well then...I guess that's that settled," I said, half teasingly, wanting to see what his reaction would be.

"Excellent.  I'll be done here in five weeks, then I have some things to wrap up, post production, I think I have one or two things in London that I have to finish and then I'll be on your doorstep.  That should give you enough time to get settled back into your classes and start missing me."  His tone was all business but when I looked up from where I was nestled into his chest I could see him grinning happily.  "Then we can figure things out from there."

Was he serious?  He seemed to be...I snuggled in closer to him, deciding to just go with it for the time being.  "Yeah...no need to worry about it now."  I tipped my face up again and he leaned down to kiss me.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, sweetie.  I never meant to."

I nodded.  "Me too.  I didn't mean it."

Tom glanced at the driver, then leaned forward and told him a different address.  I looked at him in confusion.  "What was that?"

"I gave him the address of the airport earlier.  It's an hour away."  He grinned at me.  "I knew we'd need time to talk and you can't get away from me in the back seat of a car."

I gave him a nasty look.  "That was low."

"Yes, but it served its purpose didn't it."  He tapped my nose.  "We're good again, aren't we?"

"I suppose."

He looked at me with hopeful desire shining in his eyes.  "We're almost to the airport, which means we have at least an hour before we get to where we're actually going..."  He stroked his thigh with his palm, indicating that I should slide over onto it.  "You can take a nap or you can hop up here and let me pleasure you slowly for the next sixty minutes...completely at your discretion, of course."  I looked at him sideways, debating whether or not it was wise to let him off the hook yet.  We still had things to discuss.  

"Do I forgive you?"

He smiled sweetly.  "I hope you do.  If not, I'll keep working to earn it."  He patted his leg, tugging gently at my coat with his other hand.  "Come on, little girl.  Come sit on daddy's lap."

I couldn't resist him and he knew it, the wide grin spreading across his face was all the proof of that.  I gave in and slid onto his lap, letting him turn me so that I was facing him with my knees on either side.  His hand went to my zipper and he slowly tugged it down, unbuttoning the button, then slipping into my jeans to cup my pussy in his palm.

"You forgot to put your panties back on," he whispered against my throat.  "Naughty girl."

"They need to be burned after last night.  I wasn't about to put them back on."

He laughed, nipping at my collarbone with his lips.  "Maybe I'll steal them from your purse and carry them in my pocket after you leave.  Keep a bit of you close to me."

"I think there's more of you on them than there is of me."

He groaned, nudging his lips against the underside of my chin.  I scooted closer and could feel him, under my bottom, already getting hard.

"Oh sweetheart, I want to make you come right here with the driver watching us in the mirror."

I squirmed on his lap, grinding down on his hand.  I didn't even care about the driver.  "Let him watch."  Tom slipped a finger into me and I gasped, pushing down harder as he wiggled it against my cervix.

"Is this make-up sex?" he asked, sliding down in the seat a bit and pushing me back on his legs so that he could get to his zipper.  I helped him unzip it and reached in to pull his cock out; it was already very hard and I stroked it into full arousal while he watched me with hooded eyes.  

"It's whatever you want it to be," I whispered huskily, our previous conversation completely pushed from my mind by this sudden overwhelming need for him.  He wrapped his long fingers around my wrist and stopped me.

"What do you want it to be?" he asked quietly, his eyes searching.  I stared into them and saw so much emotion swimming in the blue and green and gold...everything from sadness to joy to hope...but there was nothing there that said he wasn't sure.  Nothing at all to say he didn't know if he wanted this - all of it, not just the sex.  He wanted me, it was right there, clear and bright and absolutely certain.

"There's nothing to make up.  I forgave you the second you did it...and I probably always will.  You make me stupid that way."

His smile returned and he sat up to nip me on the neck with his lips.  "Janette is going to kill us, you do realize this of course."  His hand left my wrist and trailed over my neck and shoulder, sliding down to my hip to pull my shirt up, exposing a purpling bruise.  "Your sweet little body is now a delectable roadmap of pleasures."

"Yeah, you're covered in hickies and bitemarks too, I'm afraid."  I opened his shirt and leaned forward to put my mouth over his nipple, sucking hard enough to make him give a breathless moan.  "Might as well do all the damage we want, the girl needs to work for her paycheck."

He chuckled under his breath, his head dropping back as I licked and sucked my way across his chest.  "Yes, by all means - make the girl earn it."

I knew the driver was probably watching us in the mirror as we started squirming out of our clothes, but I didn't care.  All I could think of was what would happen when Eric saw the pictures of me and Tom.  I'd worked so hard to end up in a place where he'd never find me again, and now I was about to go very very public.

I put it out of my mind and turned my attention back to the man sitting under me.  "I thought I heard you say you wanted to make me come."

 

 

 

_To be continued..._


	13. Chapter 13

 

 

"Did you arrange that?"  I was sitting on his lap, straddling him, tugging his fingers out of my cunt so I could push his cock inside me.  I was completely naked now and the cold rain-tinged air was making my nipples stand up.  Tom was panting under me, trying to reach my mouth to kiss me, but I put my elbow against his throat to hold him in place.

"Arrange what?" he croaked, trying to breathe around his intense arousal and my elbow on his windpipe.  

"The lobby.  All those photographers and press.  Did you do that?"  I had his cock in my hand, holding it upright, ready to slide down on it.  He looked up at me, his eyes wide and completely honest.  He shook his head.

"No, I didn't."

I breathed a sigh of relief - they say a man is most honest when an angry woman has his cock in her hands, although I would have believed him even if I hadn't been gripping his manhood.  But before I could say anything, he spoke again.

"But - I knew they were there."

"You  _what?"_

"I knew they were there."  

I think he could tell I was about to go off on him because he put his hands up, gingerly removing my elbow from his neck, and quickly continued. "I texted Luke when we first got there, while you were in the bathroom.  Just to tell him where I was and that I wouldn't be responding to any calls. He texted me back immediately and told me Sarah Alix was holding a press conference there in the morning, right before lunch."  His face looked a bit sheepish and he paused, giving me room to say something.  I kept quiet.  He swallowed and then continued.  "I was going to take you out through the back to avoid them, but I realized that might make you feel like I was trying to hide you, like I was ashamed of you.  I couldn't bear it if you thought that - so I decided to take you out the front.  When you freaked out, I admit I got a little angry and...well, I shouldn't have forced you to do it. I'm sorry Anna.  Truly."  His hands came to my hips and his fingers squeezed me, gently.  "I know I can't say I'm sorry enough for how that made you feel."

I cringed.  It finally all made sense - his actions, his reasoning, his behavior.  "And because of my reaction, you thought _I_ was ashamed of _you."_

He nodded, letting his fingers slide up my ribs, tickling me unintentionally.

"Yes.  I suppose we were a bit at crossed wires, there."

"Oh Tom," I sighed.  "I think we're better in bed than we are out of it."

Something flickered in his eyes and he suddenly looked sad.  "But I want us to be as good out as we are in, Anna...can we try?"  He gave me that pleading puppy smile, the one that always made me want to hug him.  I was going to have to develop some immunity to those smiles if I wanted to stand a chance.

"How about we finish this first, then we start discussions on the future."  I tipped his cock back so that it rubbed against my underside, slowly dragging the tip through my damp folds.  "Shall we, daddy?"

His fingers tightened around my waist and a starved look came into his eyes.  "Oh yes, little girl...by all means."

 

I lowered myself on him and sank his cock deep, closing my eyes to the sound of both of us sucking our breath in.  I felt like it had been forever since I'd had him inside me, even though it had only been two hours ago that we were laying in the big comfortable bed in the hotel room, having slow delicious wakeup sex.  I was getting addicted to him, the feel of him, the warmth of his skin and the strong gentleness of his hands, the quiet power in his muscles and the kind look in his eyes.  I couldn't imagine leaving him, even though I knew I was going to do just that.

His hands were suddenly on my face.  "Stop it, Anna," I heard him whisper.  He pulled me forward so he could kiss my closed eyes.  "Stop thinking. Just be with me."

I obeyed, and as he pushed up to thrust into me and I pushed down, one last thought shoved its way into my head before the pleasure of his cock sliding in and out took over - _do we stand a chance in the real world?_

  

True to his word, he pleasured me slowly for the next sixty minutes; or, at least he did after our first quick coupling was finished.  Something about the cold nippy air biting at our skin and the forbidden excitement of knowing the driver was sneaking peeks at us while we fucked in the back seat put us into a frenzied rush, and we ended up coming quickly after some hard, brutal bouncing and grinding.  Tom growled like an animal when he came, pulling me down hard onto him and holding me there while his cock pulsed inside me, shooting his seed into me with such force that I could feel it gushing against my cervix before it started to ooze out around his cock and down my thighs.  He was out of breath and helpless for a moment, completely spent, and I cradled his head against my chest while he struggled to get his breathing under control.  

"It's a good thing I can't get pregnant yet," I giggled against the top of his head, "Because I think that would have done it."  He laughed against my chest, his voice hoarse and raw.  His hand moved from my bottom around to my stomach and he pressed his fingers in a circle around my bellybutton.

"That will be fixed soon enough," he said, turning his face to smile up at me.  "Do you have a father picked out yet for these future babies?"

"I've been considering one or two."

"Oh?  And who's at the top of this exclusive list?"

"Well, I think Harrison Ford is getting a bit old...I should probably cross him off."

"He's what, seventy-four now?  Yeah, that's a bit on the down side of procreation...plus I think Calista Flockhart's got him pretty well locked down."

"And Ian McKellen..."

"Yeaaah that's not going to work out, darling, sorry."

"Disappointing.  He'd make a great dad."  I absently smoothed his long dark curls back from his forehead and ran my fingertips across his eyebrows.  "I guess that just leaves you."

His smile turned shy and warm as he lowered his face back to my chest again, nuzzling between my breasts while his hand rubbed my belly. "Think you could stand ginger haired babies?"

"Ginger?"  I tugged one strand of his wavy hair away from his head and looked at his scalp.  The hair lady had been complaining about how fast his hair was growing and that she was going to have to dye him black again pretty soon because his roots were showing.  "You have red hair? Seriously?"

"Sort of.  Reddish blonde I guess."  He tugged at my hair.  "Mine and yours together, those are going to be some crimson headed children."

I hugged him tight for a few minutes while he stroked my stomach gently with his fingers.  All the stress from earlier was gone, melted away, replaced by his warm body radiating its heat into mine while the icy air around us tried to seep its way in.  The windows were fogged up and I heard the driver switch on the defrost.  I sighed.

"Was that contentment I just heard?"

"Mmmm.  It might have been my stomach.  I'm getting hungry."

"Me too.  And I have set call at 2:30, I'll have to grab something while I'm in makeup."

"We could have this guy take us to a drive-through, couldn't we?"

Tom shifted me on his lap, lifting my leg back over him and turning me so that I was sitting sideways against him.  "Yes, we could...but then we'd have to stop doing _this..."_ His fingers dipped in between my thighs and started stroking me, alternating gentle rubs with light pinches as his other hand pulled his coat up over me to keep me warm.  Under the coat, his hand roamed up to my breast and cupped it gently, squeezing as his thumb rubbed over my nipple.  My head instantly dropped back and I moaned loudly without even thinking.

_"Ohhh god Tom..."_

"There you go baby girl...moan for daddy...let me know how much you love my touch."

I stretched out on him, leaning back against his shoulder with my head in the crook of his neck.  He supported me with his arm around me, the other across me with his hand buried between my legs, his fingers nestled deep inside me while his thumb slowly, agonizingly rubbed on my clit.  "Relax my love, let me take care of you," he purred into my ear as I surrendered completely to his touch.  "Close your eyes.  That's a good girl...so obedient, always does as she's told..."

Somewhere deep inside I remembered someone else telling me to do as I was told, but instead of clenching up in cold fear, the sound of Tom's comforting voice telling me the same thing made me feel warm and safe.  His arms around me gave me a sense of being protected and loved. The words didn't mean the same thing coming from him.  From him, they were praise and adoration and a promise that he would give me everything I wanted, as long as I wanted it.  My obedience was my request for him to dominate me.   _He was letting me ask for it._ He wasn't forcing it on me. When I stopped obeying, he would stop dominating.  It finally made perfect sense to me, why I was able to crave this, after having tried so hard to run from it before.  Before, I hadn't been given the option of not playing along.  Before, it wasn't a game. Before, refusal to obey had cost me dearly.  

But not now.  Not with Tom.  Refusal now would simply mean he'd stop what he was doing and respect my wishes to change the game.  There were no consequences.

His fingers were bringing me to the pinnacle of pleasure and I turned my head to press my face against his neck.  He was whispering to me; I hadn't been listening, lost in my own head, overcome with the emotions that this new realization had brought with it.  I felt hot tears tumbling down my cheeks as he turned his face to nuzzle his lips against mine.  His whispered words broke through the jumbled haze and caressed my ears, bringing me back to awareness.

_"I love you Anna...I love you baby girl..."_

Only then did I realize I was saying it too.

 

The driver cleared his throat when we were fifteen minutes from our destination, letting us know discreetly that now would probably be a good time to start putting ourselves back together.  Tom dressed me while I sat in his lap, only letting me help as much as lifting my legs for him to slide my jeans on; I was beginning to notice that he seemed to really enjoy doing everything for me.  It was nice, being completely cared for and looked after; a little bit strange, maybe, but not discomfiting.  He was tucking my breasts back into my bra when he met eyes with me and noticed I was staring at him.  He grinned, leaning forward to kiss me on the lips.

"I meant it," he whispered.  "Every word."

I smiled against his mouth and slipped my arms around his neck to hug him.  I wanted to say _me too_ but for some reason all I could manage was a nod of my head as I squeezed his neck tight.  He seemed to understand and kissed all along the side of my face.  I could feel his smile against my cheek.

 

Tom flashed his set pass through the window as we entered the lot and the security guard waved us through.  "Welcome back, Mr Hiddleston," he said with a smile.  "Hope you had a nice night out."  

"A very nice night, thank you Frank."  His hand was on my knee and he gave it a firm squeeze, winking at me as Frank glanced over at me.  

"Afternoon Miss Black."

"Afternoon, Frank."

As we drove onto the lot, Tom patted my leg.  "Get used to it, darling."

I wasn't sure what he meant, but I didn't care to ask.  As we climbed out of the cab and I stood in the chilly afternoon wind, feeling the icy rain that was beginning to fall, I didn't really care about much at all except the tall dark haired man that was at that moment tipping the driver handsomely for his outstanding discretion and professionalism.  When he turned with a wide smile and wrapped his arms around me, out in the open without any apprehension about who might see us, I knew.  There was no doubt.

"I meant it too," I said as we started walking toward his trailer, arms around each other's waist.  "Every word."

He tugged me against him, smiling so broadly I could see every tooth he owned.  

"Well good.  It seems we're finally on the same page."

 

 

_To be continued..._


	14. Chapter 14

 

 

That night, I slept in Tom's trailer while he worked late.  The set was closed most days, so no one was allowed anywhere near the production area unless they were actually part of the scene being shot.  I had seen very little of his work aside from the few scenes he had with me.  I wondered if he was as good an actor as everyone seemed to think - I regretted never having seen but one of his movies and only a small part of a second, despite the fact that he seemed pleased that I had no apparent admiration for his craft.  I looked him up on Netflix but knew I would fall asleep before I had time to watch a full movie, so I chose something called The Pirate Fairy and just listened to his voice while I dozed.

I didn't know how long I'd been asleep when I felt him climbing quietly into bed next to me.

"Mmmm...hello pirate."

He nuzzled against my shoulder, slipping an arm over my stomach.  "Arrrgh, me lovely matey," he whispered back.  "Been into the blue fairy dust have ye?"  He kissed my neck softly.  "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

I turned over in his arms to face him as he settled in, his warm breath tickling my forehead.  "I'd be upset if you didn't.  We don't have that much time left together."

He pressed a kiss to my brow.  "Of course we do, darling - we have all the time in the world.  After a five-week hiatus, that is."

"Oh is that what it is?  A hiatus?"  I laughed and snuggled in closer to him.  "We'll be back after this commercial break."

His hands roamed down to my bottom and gave me a firm squeeze.  "And now a word from our sponsors."

"Mmmmm."  I felt him hardening against the front of my thigh.  "Think maybe we could make love for a little while?  Or are you tired?"

He shifted, pulling me closer.  "I think we could definitely make love for a little while...I showered at wardrobe so at least I won't be rubbing that sticky greasepaint all over you."  I sniffed him, detecting a comforting scent of soap on his skin.  

"You smell nice."

"And you smell delicious."

"It's vanilla."

"Vanilla what?"

"Just vanilla," I giggled.  "I didn't have any perfume so I put some vanilla on my neck."  I turned my head, baring my throat to him.  "See?"

He pressed his nose to my skin and inhaled deeply, a low groan rumbling in his own throat as his tongue came out to lick me.  "Nice...very sexy. Vanilla is one of my favorite scents."  He nudged his nose along my jawline, leaving soft kisses trailing behind his lips.  "Where else did you put it?"

"Don't you wish you knew."

"I do wish I knew...but if you're not going to tell me, maybe I'll just do a little exploring and find out on my own."

I smiled and closed my eyes like I was going to go back to sleep.  He obviously considered this all the permission he needed to commence exploration of my body; slowly moving over me so that he was straddling my legs, he began undressing me, exposing my skin bit by bit, sniffing and licking as each section was revealed.  Whenever he found a whiff or taste of vanilla, he sucked at it till the taste was replaced with a warmly aching pink lovebite on my skin.  

"You smell like a warm cupcake just out of the oven, my sweet," he whispered from somewhere around my bellybutton.  "Let's whip up some frosting to drizzle over the top, shall we?"

His fingers found that soft warm place between my legs saved only for him and claimed it, pressing inside to coax my sticky sweet juices out. He raised his hand to his mouth and sucked his fingertips, his eyes locked to mine in a heated gaze that made me feel tingly and nervous in my belly.  I reached up and touched his face, amazed as always at how he could look so innocently angelic yet dangerous and dark at the same time.  "It's the black hair," he'd told me once before.  "Makes my eyes weird."  I didn't believe him...it was something more than the color of his hair or the way they paled his skin to put him into character.  It was something _in_ him, and it was part of him.  It excited me.

He rubbed one juice-slickened fingertip across my lower lip and let that slow, slightly menacing grin curl up the corners up his mouth as he looked down at me.  "Taste yourself, darling.  See how delicious you are...how temptingly _sweet."_    He removed the finger from my lip and opened his mouth, pressing it against his tongue to lick away the remaining taste of me.  To appease him, I ran my own tongue across my lips. His eyes immediately grew dark and he lowered his mouth to mine, crushing against me in a deep kiss that forced my lips open so that he could explore deeply, his tongue sliding into my mouth, his fingers returning to my pussy to push in and mimic the movements of his tongue.  I reflexively spread my legs wide, urging him to settle between them by pulling at his hips with my hands.

_"Take me, Tom,"_   I whispered against his lips, sucking at his tongue as he pushed it slowly in and out of my mouth.  His fingers were teasing me to ecstasy but they weren't enough - I wanted his cock filling me to the brim, stretching me wide, rubbing me raw.  I reached between us and tugged down the front of his sweats, letting his penis spring free, feeling it harden as it fell heavily onto my stomach.  Tom groaned and his hips instinctively thrust forward as he let me take him in hand and guide him down between my legs, nudging his tip into my folds, putting him at my opening and then moving my hands around behind him to grasp his cheeks and pull him down.  He allowed me to do all this, letting me take the lead, grinning with satisfaction when he heard me whimpering as I tried to raise my hips enough to bring him into me.  He finally relented and sank himself deep, voicing an incoherent sound of pleasure as he drove far into my womb.

He took me slow and easy, alternating absolute gentleness with an occasional soft slap to the clit to keep me from getting too comfortable. Every reactionary jerk of my hips or surprised yelp earned me either a deep, loving kiss or a nipping bite, either to the soft skin of my throat or to a sensitive nipple.  He kept all my senses working overtime until late into the night when we finally fell asleep, exhausted, completely sated, with him still inside me.

 

For two days that week we had short filler scenes and pickup shots, mostly correcting lighting mistakes and creating what Benicio called a "trove" of little non-action shots that he could choose from later to splice in here and there, to flesh out scenes or lengthen them as need be. Some were only of me, a few involved Tom, but none of them were long and we ended up not seeing each other much for a few days.  He put in long hours at another off-set location and would come in quietly late at night, slipping into bed next to me, sometimes waking me and sometimes not.  Both of us had that aching realization that our last day on set together was coming quickly, but we didn't talk about it.  It was there, though, in his eyes every time he looked at me; a sad, unspoken confession that he was missing me already.  

Our final scene was shot on Friday.  In it, Sir William had an uncharacteristic display of tenderness toward my - or rather, toward the main actress's - character, professing his love for her following a decidedly romantic bit of un-kinky sex.  Tom played it full tilt, complete with a voice that quivered with emotion and soulful eyes that brimmed till they overflowed with tears.  I'd seen very little of his actual acting until that moment, and it was then that I realized what people said about him was true...the man could act.

When his final lines were spoken, lying atop me, both of us nude and shivering in the cold, all I could do was stare into his eyes and try to keep it together until the director called cut.  But instead, we were asked to do it again.  A cameraman and the set assistant were giggling, and the lighting tech was grinning behind his hand.  It was the first time I'd ever seen anything less than professional behavior on the set and I wondered what had set it off.  I glanced down between us to see if an inappropriate erection had sneaked in when I wasn't paying attention.

"The line is, 'I love you my dearest, my sweet sweet Brienne,'" Benicio reminded Tom from his makeshift monitor booth.  Tom raised an eyebrow in confusion.  

"Yes...sorry, isn't that what I said?"

More giggling from the cameraman.  

"No, but close.  I love you my sweet sweet _Brienne_ , not my sweet sweet _Anna."_

Tom's face flushed in embarrassment and he let his head drop next to mine.  "Shit, sorry Benicio," he apologized, flustered.  I patted the back of his head while they checked the playback, telling us to stay put while they debated on whether or not they could edit the dialog or if it was necessary to reshoot.  It was finally decided that Tom could loop the correct name in in post production, and a wrap was called on the scene.

And just like that, it was over.  My job complete, my time filming a big hollywood movie came to a close.  Benicio actually threw a little party for me, with a cake shaped like the big old Victorian bed Tom and I filmed most of our scenes on, complete with "Now we can burn the sheets!" printed across the canopy in spooky letters.  Most of the crew was invited.  Wine and tequila, Benicio's liquor of choice, flowed freely and by midnight everyone was feeling happy and uninhibited, including the actress whose body I had doubled for.  I had never met her, nor even seen her on the set, but I'd been told by the wardrobe lady that she had personally approved me to be her stand-in.  Toward the end of the party she wandered over to me with a big smile, holding her hand out.

"I want to thank you for making me look good," she said, shaking my hand firmly.  "I'm afraid I'm too shy for these kinds of movies, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to work with Tom again.  He's such a sweetheart."  She shot a smile past me and I glanced around to see Tom standing not far away.  "He seems smitten.  He hasn't taken his eyes off you all night."

I hoped I wasn't blushing.  She turned her smile back to me and grabbed two glasses of wine from a passing waiter's tray, handing one to me. "Here's to naked boobs, spanked asses, and Tom fuckin' Hiddleston."

I laughed.  "To all of the above."  From the corner of my eye I could see Tom watching me, his eyes raking over me like he was seeing me for the first time.  I knew he'd had too much to drink, and with a sigh of resignation I decided I should get the two of us back to one of our trailers before neither of us could walk.  Benicio was doing shots in the corner with two of the sound techs and I slipped my arm through Tom's, guiding him away from the crowd.  He grabbed a bottle and came along without hesitation.

"Taking me outside to ravish me against the dumpster?" he asked with a slightly slurred giggle and a quick grope to my backside.  I took the bottle from him and led him out of the building by the hand.  

"Maybe.  Though probably not the dumpster, those things are on wheels and I need something solid or I'll probably fall over."  To punctuate my statement, Tom accidentally kicked the back of my foot and stumbled, grabbing onto me to steady himself.  "Whoa tiger, we're not even out of eyeshot yet," I scolded him, looking around to get myself oriented.  I wasn't familiar with this part of the lot and had no idea which way the trailers were.

He was laughing adorably, completely tipsy and happy.  The melancholy feeling that had been sitting heavy in my chest all night was still there, but seeing him so carefree and enjoying himself so uninhibitedly was lightening it considerably.  "Come on silly, we need to find the right road.  I'm completely lost."

Tom grabbed the bottle back from me and hoisted it high, singing.  "Show me the way to go home, I'm tired and I wanna go to bed -"

I wrapped his arm around my neck and sang along.  "I had a little drink about an hour ago and it's gone straight to my head."

We were laughing like idiots and reciting lines about needing bigger boats when it suddenly started to rain, a hard unrelenting downpour that had us soaked to the skin in seconds.  We ducked into a short alley between two warehouses to wait it out and I halfheartedly slapped his hands away when he started feeling me up.  "Stop it, we're not that far from the party and people are going to be wandering through here," I scolded as he leaned heavily into me, his mouth hot on my neck.  His hands climbed to my breasts and were squeezing, a bit too roughly, and within seconds our silly mood had shifted abruptly from happily tipsy to completely horny, with no travel time between the two.

"Oh my god Tom, what the hell did you do," I gasped against his chest as he pushed me back against the cold damp wall.  His hands were already yanking my jeans down and hoisting me up so that I had no choice but to wrap my legs around his back, hooking my ankles together behind him to keep me in place.  My pants were hanging off one leg and I blankly hoped they would stay there and not end up on the wet ground.  "I swear I didn't feel like this just a minute ago," I protested weakly.

His breath was alternating between rapid pants and growlingly mumbled curses as he tugged at my remaining clothes, trying to get my breasts naked against him.  I quickly unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it back off his shoulders to help him, but he was having trouble with mine and before I could render aid, his frustration got the better of him.  Yanking violently, he ripped my shirt open; the sound of tearing fabric startled me and I gasped loudly, looking down in shock at the torn tatters in his hands.  He didn't even pause before moving to my bra to yank it down roughly.  The thought crossed my mind briefly that maybe I should get his attention and calm him a little, but the sensation of him pushing up against me from underneath was rapidly taking away my own ability for rational thought.  I reached under my butt and quickly popped open his jeans. 

He groaned a loud, rudely lascivious groan when I tugged his cock out.  I could barely reach and my position was precarious, with my back against the wall and my legs behind him, my whole body weight resting on his narrow hips.  He spread his legs to keep me from sliding down and hefted me up a little higher so that he could line his cock up with my pussy.

"Wiggle those hips baby, squirm," he growled against my throat, grinding his cock into my folds.  I was already so wet I could feel him sliding easily against my skin.  I obeyed, grinding back against him, gasping when the head of his cock slipped just barely inside me.  I threw my head back but his hand caught me before I slammed it into the wall, cushioning my skull with his palm.  "Easy sweetheart, no head injuries - I want to fuck you, not carry you unconscious to the infirmary."

"Ugh how can you even _talk,"_   I growled, losing my self control as his tip teased me mercilessly, dipping in just briefly and then pulling out, never sinking in far enough to actually penetrate me.  I pushed my back hard against the wall and shoved my bottom down, trying desperately to get him inside me.

"You want me baby?  Hmm?  You want me inside you?"

"Yessss," I groaned, in pain with desire.  I wondered briefly if this was what animals felt like when they were in heat - desperate, uncomfortable, brainless.  I didn't even care if anyone saw us, I just _needed him._

_"Then say it."_

"Oh god...please Tom..."

"Say it!"

His mouth came down to suck at my breast, his words broken by slurping sounds and the soft noise of kisses.   _"Say it, Anna."_

The head of his cock, so wet and slick with my juices and his own oozing lubrication, tapped ruthlessly at my opening;  I was tilted up toward him so that my clit was rubbing against his lower stomach, tickled unbearably by the soft trail of hair that ran from his bellybutton to the base of his cock.  I'd had enough - if I didn't have him inside me soon I was going to combust.

_"FUCK ME TOM!!"_

It was like a switch was flipped the moment my words hit his ears.  The force of his hips hitting me from underneath slammed me into the wall and I had to spread my arms to my sides against it to hold me steady.  His own hands were behind my head and back, shielding me from the wall's impact, but quickly moved down to my bottom to hold me in place while he drove into me.

It was wild, it was passionate, it was noisy and filthy and I felt like an animal, rutting and grunting and responding purely physically, without any rational thought marring the experience.  Tom was further gone even than I was, his eyes closed tight, his teeth clenched, his hands gripping me too tightly, his fingers digging into my flesh while his hips pounded against me in an almost primal rage.  I could hear our skin slapping together and the wet, almost obscenely sloshy sounds of his cock slamming in and out of my cunt.  It was scary and disgusting and _wonderful._

And it only got worse.  With his hands under me, he gripped my bottom and spread my cheeks apart, pushing a long finger into my ass as I bit my tongue to keep from screaming.  The surprise combined with the sheer pleasure of the sensation was overwhelming and I bucked against him, grinding down on both his cock and his hand, the sounds coming from my throat not sounding anything at all like me.  He pumped me hard in both holes while I held onto him with my legs, squirming and writhing against the intense heat rising alarmingly fast in the pit of my belly.

He felt my orgasm coming at the same time I did and quickened his thrusts, no longer paying attention to my breasts or ass, just slamming into me until he threw his head back and cried out with his own release. I put a hand over his mouth quickly to muffle the sound and he bit me, his eyes clenched shut so tightly that I wondered briefly if he was even still in there.  The sting of the bite pulled me back from the brink and stilled my oncoming climax for a moment, which was, I soon found out, exactly as he'd intended.

He took a moment to catch his breath and then opened his eyes, fixing them on me with a dark stare so full of lust and desire that I drew back from him, pressing myself against the wall again.  He took that moment to slide his hands to my hips, gripping tightly as he hefted me up, using the leverage of the wall behind my back to support me as he lowered himself to drape my legs over his shoulders.  Now holding my weight with his upper body, he buried his face in my pussy and shoved his tongue into me before I could even show my surprise at this sudden new position.

_"Oh my god - Tom!!"_   I cried out when I felt his face press into me.  His mouth pushed into my folds, slurping and sucking at me while his nose rubbed against my clit, his tongue plundering deep within me, touching further inside than I would have guessed he could reach.  His hands on my hips were bruising me but I didn't care, it was all about the sensations now and he was making sure I felt everything.

He pulled his tongue out, dragging it slowly across my entire cunt, licking me from hole to hole and back again, holding me still while I quivered and moaned.  I felt dizzy and weak but his strong shoulders under my thighs and his big hands firmly holding my hips kept me from needing to think about my position.  My ass was nearly six feet off the ground, my head even higher.  If I had stopped to think about it I probably wouldn't have been able to concentrate on what was going on between my legs.

But he made sure that was all I could think about.  His mouth worked its way back to my clit, kissing and licking and teasing me with his tongue until he finally latched his lips onto my painfully swollen nub, caressing it softly with his tongue before he began sucking it, the intensity quickly growing until he had me writhing again.  I let go of the wall and held onto his head with both hands, bucking against his face as the pleasure exploded in an agonizing, blinding, white hot inferno of pulsating waves that pulled me into quivering, helpless, complete bliss.  My hips jerked and my back arched as my whole body switched on, its reactions completely out of my hands, controlled only by him.

After what seemed an eternity of agonizing delight, I finally opened my eyes and tilted my head to look down.  His smiling face was gazing up at me from between my thighs, his mouth and chin glistening with my juices.  He licked his lips and grinned.

"My, look at what a big girl you are, way up there," he said teasingly as he slipped my legs off his shoulders and gently lowered me, being careful not to scrape my back against the wall.  He slid me down his body until I could unwrap my legs from around him and put my feet on the ground, but he didn't make me stand on my own yet - I couldn't, and it was obvious.  My legs were shaking and I felt queasy and lightheaded, possibly from the wine, probably from the uterus-wrenching orgasm he'd just treated me to.  I swayed against him and he wrapped his arms around me protectively.

"Lets get you someplace warm and dry, sweetheart," he said, tugging what was left of my shirt back over my breasts as I tried to get my bra straps onto my shoulders.  One strap was popped and the other was so hopelessly twisted, I didn't even bother.  Tom gave me a sheepish look.  "Sorry darling...I couldn't wait and it was in my way."  He picked his discarded coat up off the ground and wrapped it tightly around me. "Gives me an excuse to take you to one of those sexy lingerie shops, anyway.  You can try on the entire store while I watch."

I snuggled up under his arm as we made our way through the darkened lot; we'd sobered up enough to find our way now, and the rain had dwindled to a gentle cold mist that caressed our sweat-damped faces and cooled our overheated bodies.  And when we finally made it to his warm, dry trailer, after we'd showered and dried ourselves and fallen together into the soft, comfortable little bed, we wrapped ourselves in each other's arms and fell asleep, kissing like teenagers.

 

 

_To be continued..._


	15. Chapter 15

 

 

"What do you want, Anna?  What do you hope will happen in your life in the next few years?"

We were in another cab, on our way to the airport this time.  Benicio had given Tom the afternoon to see me off.  He kept telling me we'd see each other again in five weeks, but I put no real faith in it; in the back of my mind I knew he would change his mind, get too busy, put it off long enough to start feeling differently about the whole thing.  In the end he would forget me, and I would just go on about my life with the fond memories of the sweet man who taught me so much about lust, passion, and romance - most notably the difference between the three, and how closely they could all exist without overshadowing one another.  I was grateful for the lesson, and grateful for the time I'd had with him.

He squeezed my hand, the expression on his face something between hopeful and expectant.  I took a deep breath and gave him my answer, not bothering to tailor it to what I'm sure he hoped to hear.  The need to keep unrealistic expectations out of my own plans didn't leave me room to flower anything up.  Not even for him.

"I want to finish my degree.  I want to be a psychologist.  I want to have a family."

It was the same spiel I'd been rattling off for the past two years, mostly to myself, and it comforted me because I finally knew it was all likely to happen.  Everything was lining up the way it should.  Even a very tempting wrench that had tried to throw itself into the works had been sorted, although it was still lurking about the edges, threatening to work itself back in somehow.  A wrench that was sitting right next to me, holding my hand, giving me a charming smile that made me want to let him rip my panties off with his teeth.

"And you're working toward accomplishing all those things, aren't you?"  His voice was proud, like it always was when we talked about this.  That was his daddy thing raring its head.  "You're going to school. You're close to finishing your degree.  You're getting your health sorted so that you can have children."  He moved our clasped hands up my lap till the back of his was pressed lightly against my stomach.  "This, right now, is just a step on the ladder.  You'll leave here and go home and do all those things and your life will be perfect, sweetheart.  I know it will."  

I smiled and his face lit up for the first time since we'd left the set.  "There's my beautiful girl."  He pulled me close and kissed me.  "And once I'm done here I'll come to see how you're doing."

My face must have exposed my feelings on that subject because he furrowed his brow and sat back a bit.  "Is that okay with you, Anna?  Is it what you want?"

I nodded, glancing out the window, not sure I wanted to be having this conversation.  I didn't want to hurt his feelings by telling him how the scenario kept working itself out in my head.  Things like this, like me and him, they happened, yes.  But you didn't often hear of them working out, or lasting.

"What are you going to do after this?  You said you were done for a while?"

It was his turn to let his face expose his true feelings.  Something in his eyes shifted, like expectations falling.  He knew I wasn't even going to humor him.

"I'm taking some time off.  I've worked a solid year and I'm ready for a break."  He moved his hand to my shoulder and squeezed gently, pulling back just slightly, urging me to turn and look at him.  "Anna, you're avoiding this.  Please tell me what you're thinking."

I took a deep breath and let it out loudly, more loudly than I intended.  "Honestly?"

He nodded.  "Absolute honesty, yes."  He brushed a strand of my hair back off my shoulder with his finger and waited.

"I'm going home.  I'm going to settle back in, water my plants, get my cat back from my neighbor, and sleep for three days.  Then I'm going to enroll in classes and get my books.  I'm going to take my classes, earn my degree, and start looking for work, probably something in social services.  Then when I'm settled with a good career, I'm going to call you and tell you I'm ready for those ginger haired kids."  He laughed.

"Well I'm glad you've allotted a spot for me in your busy life," he grinned, running his fingers through my hair.  "And I promise you, when you call me, I will come."  He tugged a strand just hard enough to get my attention.  "But you're still avoiding."

I thought for a moment, running it around in my head.  I was only assuming, wasn't I?  He really could be sincere, couldn't he?  It wouldn't be entirely impossible, would it?  

So many questions.  I decided to just lay it out in front of him and see what he chose to pick up.

"Do you really mean it, Tom?  Do you really want to come to the States and be with me?"

His eyes never left mine, not for a moment.  "Yes.  If you'll let me.  I meant it, sweetheart - this isn't just some on-set fling that's over the second the movie wraps."  He paused, his look taking on an intensity that made me shiver.  "Not to me."  He leaned toward me and pressed his mouth to my shoulder, inhaling deeply, before he tipped his face up to let his warm breath caress the side of my neck.  "I said I love you, Anna.  It wasn't a lie, it wasn't pillowtalk, it wasn't heat of the moment.  It was truth.   _I love you."_ He slipped his arms around me and kissed below my ear.  "I want to be in your life, and I will find a way to do it, to make it work.  I know you have doubts, I understand why you would...but you'll see.  I am beyond sincere."

I stared at his lips for a moment, then gave in, if just to bring back the smile.  "Well okay then.  In five weeks, call me when you're a block away and I'll unlock the door."

He laughed.  "I may actually need you to come pick me up at the airport, since I have absolutely no clue how to get around in the States.  I don't even know where you live."  He suddenly got a funny look on his face.  "Shit, I have _no idea_ where you live."

"Yeah I know...you were too busy licking my clit to ask."

The driver choked on his coffee and swerved the cab, tossing us over against the door.  He muttered an apology and something about potholes, glancing nervously at us in the rearview mirror.  Tom shook his finger at me and gave me a warning look.

"You talk naughty like that in front of strangers and I might just have to let them watch me punish you."

"Yeah big talker, is this the same cab you screwed me in last week?"

Another shocked look from the driver and Tom put his hand over my mouth. 

With his other hand he opened my purse and took out my cellphone, switching it on and scrolling through the functions.  "You be quiet before I have him pull over.  Now, I'm putting my number in here, and I want you to use it.  Often.  I mean it Anna, I want you to call me for every little thing."  He finished putting himself into my contacts and held the phone up, putting his face close to mine and smiling that wide, goofy grin of his.  "Smile darling," he ordered, snapping our photo. "Now when I call, this will pop up and you'll know it's me and you'd better answer it, otherwise I'll just keep calling and you'll get tired of seeing my stupid mug."  He shut the phone off and slipped it back into my purse, then pulled his own out of his pocket and did the same with my number.  "There, we're all set up."  He slipped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, kissing my cheek sweetly as we pulled into the airport dropoff lane.

 

Less than an hour later we hugged goodbye at my departure gate.  He pulled me up off my feet so that his body was holding me up, his arms wrapped around my back so tight that I could barely breathe as people shuffled around us to board the plane.  When he finally set me down, he took my face in his hands and kissed me, long and deep and full of emotion, then pressed his forehead to mine and closed his eyes.  "Does this feel real to you?" he whispered.

I inhaled him, the scent of him, the leather and cinnamon tang of his skin and clothes.  It was comforting and exciting all at once, and felt so achingly familiar even after just the short time I'd known it.  I was going to miss it.  "Yes.  Yes, it does."  

He smiled and hugged me again, closer and tighter this time, till the second call for boarding came over the intercoms.

"I love you, baby," he said, kissing my nose.  "Have a safe trip...I'll see you soon, okay?"

I nudged his chin with my nose and nodded.  "I love you too, Tom.  Be good."

He smiled, that same exact smile he'd given me on my first day on the set, the one that told me everything was going to be alright.  The difference was, this time I was a little more apt to believe it.

 

As soon as I landed in Denver, I texted him a quick "Made it home" message and was putting my phone back in my purse when it buzzed.  Tom's grinning face was plastered on the call screen.  He must have had his phone in his hand when I sent the text; I had to smile at the thought of him carrying it around, waiting on me to call.  I opened his return text and saw "Good trip? XO"

I rolled my eyes.  XO?  Seriously?  

I texted back:  "Good trip, exhausted but happy to be home."

Three seconds later:  "Miss me yet?"

"Yep, about to get in a cab. Ah, memories. Would have been nice on the plane to have someone to sleep on."

"Mile High Club, baby.  You and me, one day."

I was still typing my reply when another text buzzed.  He was a lot quicker at this than I was.

"Gotta go baby. Love you. Will call you tonight. XO"

I laughed at the XO and typed out "Love you too", feeling distinctly lighthearted and hopeful, despite being dog tired.  Five weeks suddenly seemed like a very, very long time. 

 

That night he called me, just as he'd promised.  I was getting ready for bed when his goofy face popped up on my phone and I grabbed it, more excited than I had expected to be.

"Hey you."

"Hey darling!  Miss me yet?"

"I do, actually...I'm getting ready for bed and I just realized you're not here to crawl in in the middle of the night and hug me."

"Aww, sweetheart...well consider this your hug."

I held the phone against my shoulder with my ear while I finished pulling on my pajamas and climbed in bed, instantly in love with the feeling of being in my own sheets again after so long.  I sighed out loud as I scooted under the blankets.

"That sounds like a beautiful woman slipping into a comfortable bed.  Are you in your jammies?"

"I am."

"You don't sleep naked when you're at home?"

"Nope.  Just when I'm with you."

"Hmm."  He was quiet for a moment; when he spoke again his voice was different, slightly deeper.  "Would you consider sleeping naked tonight?  For me?"

"I could possibly be persuaded..."

"Take off your pajamas, Anna."

The tone of his voice left no room for argument.  The speed with which I rolled out of bed to obey him struck me as hilarious and I started to laugh, although I did as I was told even though I was giggling the whole time.  I dropped my pajamas on the floor and climbed back into bed.  I had to admit, it was even more comfortable this way.

"Done, sir."

"What's so funny?"

"I almost fell over myself scrambling to obey.  You've wrecked me."

He chuckled, a seductively sexy sound that sent chills straight down to my crotch.  "Good girl.  Obedient even when daddy's not there to spank her."

The chill turned to a hot jolt of arousal.

"Are you trying to have phone sex with me?"

"Well...yes.  Is that okay?"

I snuggled down in the blankets and sighed.  "Isn't it the middle of the afternoon there?"

"Actually it's early morning.  I just got back from my run, I haven't showered yet."

"Ah.  So...perfect timing.  You're just getting up and I'm just going down."

"Nice choice of words, darling."

Just the sound of his voice was making me wet.  Despite my hesitation to play this game - due entirely to my total inexperience with it - I found I just couldn't help myself.  "So tell me what to do, daddy...I've never done this before."

He exhaled deeply; I could see him, his pretty blue-green eyes slowly drifting shut as he leaned back to relax.  I'd seen him do it so many times right before we started foreplay.

"My little darling is a phone sex virgin.  Nice.  Nothing like a sweet, tight little virgin."  His voice was breathy and warm;  I could hear the leather of the sofa in his trailer creaking as he stretched out on it.  "Are you back in bed now?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good girl.  And you're naked?"

"Yes, sir."

"Completely naked?  No panties?"

I shivered.  His voice was killing me.  "Completely naked, no panties."

"Excellent.  What sort of sheets have you got on your bed?"

It wasn't what I was expecting to hear, but I pulled the topsheet up and looked at it.

"Umm...cotton?  I think."

"Good.  Cotton is absorbent and I don't want you to be uncomfortable from the puddle you're going to be sleeping in.  Are they soft?"

"Yes."  I was about to start laughing again - he was being so thorough with the pre-sex details.  "Very soft, and still warm.  They came out of the dryer less than an hour ago."

"Mmm, very good.  I want you to take the top sheet and pull it between your legs."

I did as I was told, bunching the sheet between my thighs and tugging it up slowly so that it rubbed against me.  The sensation of the warm fabric sliding over my skin was strangely erotic.

"How does it feel, darling?"

I could do little more than sigh out an elongated _Mmmmm,_ which seemed to please him.

"I want you to put the phone on speaker and lay it next to you.  You're going to need both hands."

Again, I obeyed him without hesitation, wondering why it seemed so important to me to do so.  I also wondered briefly why he wasn't telling me to turn on video, but I was secretly glad he hadn't - I wasn't ready for that, not yet.  I switched the phone to speaker and set it on the bed, next to my pillow.

"Now lay back and get comfortable...close your eyes...slowly slide your hands over your body, starting from your face."

"My face?"

"Yes, just like I would do if I were there."  There was a small pause.  "You haven't forgotten how I touch you already, have you?"

I definitely hadn't.  It was all I'd been able to think about while I was showering and getting ready for bed.  "No sir..."

"Such a good girl.  Do it now, slowly, just like I would do, and tell me when you've made it to your breasts."

It felt funny, running my hands over myself, but the sound of his breathing over the phone gave it an erotic edge.  Once I'd closed my eyes I could almost convince myself it was him touching me, breathing next to my ear.  Gliding my fingers down my throat and over my collarbone suddenly felt a lot better than I had expected it would.

"Gently...softly...are you there yet?"

My hands came down over the swell of my breasts and my breath caught in my throat.  "Yes," I said quietly, my hands still, waiting for his instructions.

"Your breasts are so soft, sweetheart...I love how they feel in my hands...cup them gently in your hands, baby.  Give them a squeeze."

I squeezed, and let out a little moan.  I'd always thought my breasts were too big, too squishy, not firm enough - but listening to him praise them, and feeling them myself at the same time, I realized they did actually feel nice in my hands.  I could feel my nipples stiffening against my palms from the contact.

His voice eased its way back into my awareness again.  "Now give that nipple a tweak - hard enough to feel it."  He waited until he heard me groan, then followed with one of his own.  "Oh god baby, I'd give anything to suck on those sweet nipples right now."  

My breathing was starting to come quicker and I knew he could hear me.  There was amusement tempered by desire heavy in his voice as he started being more authoritative with his instructions.

"Keep one hand on your breast and slide the other down between your legs, baby girl...and don't even try to be quiet, I want to hear every moan, every gasp, every strangled breath just like I was there."  I heard his sofa creaking again and hoped he was doing the same, but I was suddenly too shy to ask.  "Now tell me how wet you are."

"On a scale of...?"

He laughed.  "One being 'a tissue will clean that right up' and ten being 'get your scuba gear before you go down there'."

"Oh my god...um, I'd have to call it an...eleven and a half."

"And a _half,_ eh?  Wow.  I haven't even given you permission to touch your clit yet, you bad girl."

 _"Please_ do...I need to...soon."  I felt shocked and slightly embarrassed at how desperate I sounded, but something in the pit of my stomach had switched on and I was starting to ache.

He made a very self satisfied _tsk_ 'ing sound.  "Oh darling, if I were in a less horny mood and had more time to play with you, I'd torment you for hours and make you explore every curve and crevice on that gorgeous little body before I let you come.  But..."  He shifted and I heard him putting his phone on the table beside the sofa.  "I do have to be on set in less than an hour, so you're going to get the quick and dirty version.   _This_ time."

Something in the way he said _quick and dirty_ made me throb between the legs.

"Mmmm, yes sir."

He chuckled softly, his voice taking on a seductively dominant timbre.  "Spread your legs for me, just like you were lying under me.  Slip a finger into your folds, darling.  I know you're wet...press it in gently...have you found your sweet little opening?"

I nodded even though I knew he couldn't see me.

"Push it in, sweetheart.  Be gentle.  Now slide your thumb down and get it nice and wet...bring it back up and use that to make your clit slippery."  He sighed, his breathing sounding a bit ragged.  "Give your nipple a pinch for me with that other little hand.  Not hard - just enough to make your toes curl."

I did as he said and groaned loudly, pressing my knees together, squeezing my fingers in my crotch.   _"Tommm,"_ I moaned pitifully.

That sexy chuckle again.  "It's okay baby, I'm going to let you come quickly.  Is that what you need, my love?  Quick relief?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Ask me for it."

_"Please..."_

"Please what, darling?  Tell me what you want."

I was still squeezing my fingers between my legs - he hadn't given me permission yet to stroke myself, and the throb was starting to get out of control.  I felt like if I squeezed hard enough with my knees, I would explode...but he would know, and it would be five weeks before he could spank me for it.  Unacceptable.  

"Tell me, sweetheart..."

 _"I want you,"_   I groaned, groping myself desperately, eyes clenched shut and seeing only him above me.  "I need you...oh god Tom _I wish you were here."_

"That's what I wanted to hear, sweet girl.  Now I'm going to help you finish, so listen to me carefully.  Are you listening?"

I barely managed a muffled _mnn hmm,_ knowing I was supposed to be using complete words but not caring anymore.  Let him spank the hell out of me when he got there.

"Lift your bottom and slip a pillow under your legs.  Spread them wide so you're completely open."  He waited a moment for me to do it.  "Get comfortable...now ask me for permission to begin stroking yourself."

"May I...please...I need to, _it hurts..."  
_

"I know, darling.  I know you're hurting.  Say the words and I'll let you ease it."

 _"Please_  may I stroke myself?  Please...Tom...daddy... _oh god."_  I couldn't even think of what I should be calling him, my head was so filled with fog and this unrelenting _need._ How had I come to this, after just the short time we'd known each other?  He was charismatic, yes, but this was something else entirely.  I felt as if my existence depended on him being on the other end of that phone.

There was a pause, followed by a long, slow exhale and the sound of soft laughter.  But not mocking laughter - this was a satisfied sound, happy and light.  He knew I was beyond remembering my own name, but at least I'd gotten his right.

"Yes darling, you may stroke yourself now.  I'm going to do the same - I want to hear you when you come, so I can come with you.  Can you do that for me?"

I groaned my response and released the tight grip my thighs had on my fingers, letting them slide up to my clit to start stroking.  Tom's voice urged me on, encouraging me with soothing words and praise, their structure and meaning lost to the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears but their darkly lilting tone carrying me along as the pleasure quickly built to an agonizing pitch.  It seemed like only seconds before I was moaning and arching my back, my voice no longer my own, my words mixing with Tom's without even realizing I'd spoken them.  I could hear him... _That's it sweetheart, come for me, come for me baby_...as my own exclamations of pleasure ripped from my throat without my permission.  The groggily incoherent thought passed through my mind that I sounded like I was in pain - but then I heard Tom, clearly, and my own suffering sounded like nothing compared to the struggling anguish in his voice.

_"Fuck...Anna...oh god baby...please...let go baby, I want you to come now, come with me..."_

The knowledge that _he was waiting for me_ sent me over the edge and I climaxed, an incredibly intense orgasm that made me scream his name as I gasped for breath and rode it out, letting the pulsating waves of pleasure drag every last cry from my lungs so that he could hear it all.

Through the noise of my own release I heard him say my name over and over, his pleasure mingling with mine over the thousands of miles between us. 

 

 

_To be continued..._


	16. Chapter 16

 

 

"Now turn on your camera, sweetheart.  I want to see the look of satisfaction on your pretty face."

"Oh god...nooo please..."

"Anna - let me see you, pretty girl."  

Embarrassed, I reached over and turned on video, accepting his camera request at the same time.  I almost gasped out loud when his face popped up on my screen.  He was laying on his sofa, I could see his head was propped up on the tweed pillow that I had always hugged in my lap when we sat there to watch TV in his trailer.  Smiling a sleepy, happy smile.  He was every bit as devastatingly handsome as I remembered him.

When he saw me, his smile widened.  "Well hullo there, beautiful."

We just stared at each other for a long while, both of us still breathing heavy, sharing our satisfied sighs over the long miles.

 

After a few minutes of some sweetly silly pillowtalk, he had another call come in, which he glanced at and then ignored.  "Set call in twenty.  I should shower - "  I could see him look down, then he broke into his widest smile and laughed a bit.  "I _absolutely_ should shower, and then I have to get to hair and makeup."  He ran a hand through his tousled black waves and winked at me.  "Janette misses you and your bruises."

"I'll bet she does.  I don't miss her - my last two days in the makeup trailer were humiliating, she wouldn't shut up."

"I just remember her looking from you to me and back to you over and over and over."

"You gave me a hickey on my butt!  There's no other way to get a hickey, she knew what was going on."

He threw his head back and laughed.  "I guess so, since I had a few too.  Apparently we're no good at secrets, eh?"

"I never knew we were doing secrets.  The way you put us out there the whole time, I would have thought we were public domain."

He got a sheepish look and grimaced a little.  "Speaking of which, sweetheart...you may want to Google 'Hiddleston Lancashire'...or not, your decision.  Just - be prepared, okay?"

I groaned.  "Is it bad?"

He sat up, taking his phone with him as he stretched his back and popped his neck.  "Oh, no, it's not bad at all darling.  It's quite good, if you ask me...but I know you weren't quite happy about it at the time, and I didn't know if you felt any better about it yet. Apparently - "  He paused, looking for a moment like he expected me to reach through the phone and smack him.  "Apparently we're official."

A chill shot through me.  Official?  What did _that_ mean?

"What's official?"

He grinned, still a bit sheepish but getting bolder.  "You and me, baby.  They found your name and...well, obviously that was a hotel lobby, mid-morning, and you didn't want to be seen...it doesn't take a lot of IQ to put those bits together and realize _we'd_ been putting _our_ bits together."

I put my hands over my face to hide what I'm sure was a look of pure horror.  He laughed softly and continued.  "The good part is, since we stopped and let them take photos, they're not branding it a hookup or a one night stand. They're calling us a couple."

I peeked through my fingers at him; he was smiling again, that wide happy grin that made it perfectly clear that all was good in the universe, at least from where he was standing.  

"Are you okay, sweetheart?"

I nodded, sighing with resignation.  "I'm good," I finally answered after he'd stared at me for a bit, his expression changing to hopeful concern.  "Is your PR guy pissed at us?"

"Luke?  No, he's good.  Trying to keep a positive spin on things, as always.  But so far the paps are being surprisingly nice about us."

 _The paps might be, but Eric won't,_ I thought.  But Tom didn't need my worries piled onto his own, so I smiled at him and changed the subject.  "You're going to be late getting that mop tamed."

He laughed and ran a hand through his hair again.  "A bit shaggy, yeah.  I do need to go."  His face took on a wistful expression as he looked me straight in the eyes.  "I love you, Anna."

I felt suddenly shy as I said it back to him.  "I love you too, Tom." 

"Next time we'll turn our cameras on at the start.  I didn't want to overwhelm you on your first time."  His wistful look was turning darkly amorous again and I could see him slipping into character.   _"Virgins must be taken gently."_

I put my hands over my face again.  He could totally wreck me with just his voice, without even trying.  Throw in the face and all hope was lost.

"What's wrong darling?  Please don't hide from me."

"Nothing, I...I think I just miss you."

I heard a deep sigh and uncovered my eyes.  He was smiling again, pushing Sir William to the back once more, his face becoming earnestly sweet Tom in the blink of an eye.  "You have no idea how happy that makes me, to hear you say that...without me asking."  He touched the screen with his fingertip, stroking my cheek from halfway across the world.  "I can't wait to see you again.  Goodnight sweetheart...sweet dreams."

 

The next weeks went quickly, filled with classes and study and research homework.  At bedtime Tom would call me and we'd talk, after his morning run while I got ready for bed...sometimes we chatted and laughed, other times we made love as best we could, sometimes with cameras and sometimes just words.  Always he was sweet and gentle with me, his words kind and reassuring, never pressuring me but always, always, reminding me that we were going to be together again soon.  

I stopped doubting it and found myself beginning to look forward to seeing him and figuring out what our next steps would be.  I decided not to obsess over the details and just let it happen - obviously he had a plan, and an unstoppable determination to bring it to fruition.  I concentrated on my schoolwork and let him worry about the rest.  Even the photos from the hotel ended up being a positive thing, no doubt with a little help from his unflappable PR guy...I had avoided looking them up till finally he insisted that I do it while he was on the phone with me.  There we were, exiting the hotel hand in hand, him smiling brightly and me looking nervous while trying to hide behind him.  But there weren't many like that - most of the shots were of us at the door, when he had slipped his arm around me and encouraged me to smile for the cameras.  We looked happy, maybe a little tired, but our smiles were sincere and our arms wrapped snugly around each other like they belonged there.  It was my first time seeing us together outside of a mirror, and I was pleasantly surprised at how we looked.  He was so much taller than me, but I fit in perfectly against him, tucked up under his arm protectively.  

"There, see sweetheart?  Not so bad, was it?" he reassured me comfortingly.  I had to admit that he was right.  It wasn't bad at all.  There was no scathing commentary, no snide remarks, maybe a few sensationalist headlines shouting words like "confirmed bachelor and ladykiller" and "off the market" in the same sentence.  But all in all, it made me feel good.  The world seemed to be accepting us, now we just had to get our acts together and do this.

My being back in school brought out his daddy side and he would call me at random times throughout the day, asking me if I was doing my homework, making sure I was studying, questioning me about my grades.  At first it felt strange, answering to someone about a B on a test or defending my decision to go to a movie with a friend instead of studying all night; but I soon got used to it and, like the rest, decided to just go with it. Tom had a way of encouraging me to just let things happen.  I soon found it wasn't so bad, going with the flow of the universe as he called it - it might be _his_ universe, but he was slowly drawing me into it, and it wasn't turning out to be such a bad place.

 

With one week to go, I came home from class one afternoon and found a message on my phone from the surgeon that was doing my procedure.  It had been scheduled for several months down the road during a school break, but my last physical hadn't gone so well and they wanted to try to work me in sooner.  Apparently "sooner" meant immediately.   _If next week works for you, give the office a call and we'll schedule you in at the hospital._

When Tom called that night, he knew right away that something wasn't right.  He asked me to turn my camera on so he could see me, but I refused.

"What is it, sweetheart?  Is something wrong at school?"  I hadn't told him about my doctor visit or the results, and I couldn't figure out how I was going to explain this without him being angry with me for withholding the information from him.  But he seemed to know, like he always did.  It never took him long to guess correctly, and this time was no exception.  "Have you been to the doctor?"

I left a long pause hanging there, and after what seemed like an eternity of uncomfortable silence, he spoke again - quietly, but with an authority that I couldn't disobey.

"Tell me, Anna.  Tell me what's happening."

I took a deep breath and did my best to downplay it by diversion.  "Do you think...can you maybe...wait a couple more weeks before you come?"  I blurted out the last bit, biting my lip and grimacing because I knew he wasn't going to be happy.  I was glad I couldn't see his face.  There was no reply right away, so I kept talking, making a conscious effort to keep my words slow and deliberate to avoid stumbling over myself.  "It's just that, the doctor's office called and they want to move my procedure up to next week, and I really don't want to do this while you're here and - "

"Why not?"

"Why not what?"

"Why don't you want to do it while I'm there?"

"Well...because...I don't want us to have been apart all this time and then you finally get here and I'm cooped up recovering from surgery.  I don't want the first time you've seen me in five weeks to be like that."

There was another long silence and I waited, knowing he was probably mad at me, dreading his next words.  I knew I'd feel terrible once he'd said them.  So far every time I had underestimated him, he had made sure I knew I had, and I didn't figure this time wasn't going to be any different.  

"Sweetheart..."

I started to cry as soon as he said it.  There was no anger in his voice; it sounded more like disappointment than anything.  Disappointment in me.  Disappointment that I was willing to delay our reunion because I didn't want him to see me at my worst.  I didn't want to put him through that, and to preserve my own dignity in the meantime.  I found myself wishing for the anger.

"Sweetheart, I want to be there.  I don't want you to go through that all by yourself."  He took a deep breath and sighed, his voice quiet.  "Will you let me?"

And that was all he said.   _Will you let me._

Emboldened by his lack of ire, I felt an overwhelming need to express my independence, to show him that I was still a separate being, not completely engulfed by his light.  I might playfully call him daddy from time to time, but he wasn't my father, or my husband.  My life was still my own.

"Tom, no, please...let me do this, okay?  I won't be alone, I've got a friend who'll take me home after.  I promise.  I'll even have her call you as soon as I'm in recovery and let you know how things went.  Okay?"

He wasn't happy with my decision, but after a few minutes of arguing, he finally respected it.  He would delay his arrival another two weeks, wrapping up some business in London before he came.  I would be recovered before he got here, and we could resume our relationship, decide where we were going, with me healthy and him worry-free.  I felt relieved.  There was a sadness in his voice when we said goodnight, but I did my best to ignore it.

This was my life, on my terms.  Once he arrived, things would be different, but until then I wasn't going to let him run the show.

I fell asleep feeling a lot less happy with my little victory than I thought I would.

 

The day of my procedure, I drove myself to the hospital and checked in, feeling distinctly grown up and independent as I filled out the last minute paperwork and handed over my phone and personal things to the nurse.  I didn't need a man around to do this stuff...I knew it was a defiance built from a need to justify how I'd made Tom feel, excluding him from this part of my life, and although it felt hurtful, I knew it had to be this way.  In two weeks it would be about him and us - right now it was about me, and I didn't want him involved in it.

That's what I kept telling myself, anyway.  

I had forgotten to turn my phone off and it beeped, startling the nurse as she was leaving the room.  She brought it back and handed it to me with a stern look.  "Five minutes and then I need to get you prepped."

I nodded and looked at the screen.  Tom's goofy face, grinning, his head tilted against mine in the back seat of the cab, the day I left.  I fought back tears as I answered it.

"Darling!  I'm so glad I caught you before you went in.  How are things going?  How are you feeling?"

I felt so relieved hearing his voice, and hearing the happiness in it; our last conversation had ended with him being upset again at my continued refusal to let him be there, despite his insistence that it was what he wanted.  "I'm good.  I've got five minutes before I go in."

"Excellent...that gives me time to kiss you for luck."

"Oh god, Tom...please don't ask me to turn on the camera right now, I'm a wreck."

"No, no camera darling.  This one will be in person."

I looked up, expecting the person who'd just entered the doorway to be the nurse returning for my phone.  But it wasn't.

It was Tom.

He looked so different, it was like looking into the face of a stranger who seemed vaguely familiar.  I had never really paid much attention to him prior to working with him, having only actually seen one or two of his films, and in those he had looked very different as well.  This man who stood in the doorway with a bouquet of daisies had blue-green eyes, with ruddy cheeks and short, curly reddish blonde hair.  He was thinner and the lines and angles of his face were more defined, sharper.  But it was still obviously him.  It was Tom.

I started crying and slapped my hands over my face.  He had come all the way from London to be here for me, like he'd said he wanted to do.  I had told him no but he'd done it anyway.

He came to my bed and sat on the edge, trying to pull my hands away from my face.  "What have I told you about that, darling?  Never hide yourself from me."  He peeled my fingers away from my eyes and leaned down close to kiss me.  "What are these about, hmm?" he asked gently, rubbing my tears away with his fingers.  "Happy to see me and overwhelmed with joy, I hope?"

He laid the flowers on the table next to my bed and wrapped me in his arms, pulling me up close to him, breathing deeply against my hair.  "Say something, Anna," he whispered.  "Are you angry with me?  I know you told me not to come but I couldn't let you go through this alone."

I laughed against his shoulder.  "It's a two hour procedure, Tom.  A one-inch incision and I go home in the morning.  It's not a huge thing."  I slipped my arms around his back and squeezed him tight.  "But I'm happy you're here, anyway."  I sat back and looked at him while he gave me that sweet, reassuring smile I'd grown to love.  "You look so different, I almost didn't recognize you."

He nodded, grinning, running a big hand through his ginger curls.  "Sir William is gone, thank goodness.  Back to hell where he belongs."

I reached up and touched his hair.  "I've only ever seen you with black hair.  And long.  This is nice though.  Is it for a part, or is this the real you?"

"This is the real me, I'm afraid."  He gave me a loopy grin and once again I was completely taken aback at how different he seemed.  Even his eyes were a different color, no doubt because of his hair and the lack of skin-paling makeup.  His cheeks were so rosy I wanted to pinch them.  His face took on an expression of longing and he sat silent for a moment.  "I haven't looked up a hotel yet.  I was rather hoping you'd allow me to stay at your place...I'd like very much to take care of you while you're recovering."  He raised my hand to his lips and kissed it.  "If you'll allow me."

The nurse came in to take my blood pressure one last time and told Tom he could wait for me in the lobby, and that she'd come update him once I was in recovery.  He looked nervous and squeezed my hand.  "I'll be right here, sweetheart."

And then he gave me that good luck kiss he'd promised me, while the nurse was taking my blood pressure.  

"Honey, you're at stroke level," she scolded as she repositioned the cuff to take it again.  "Prince Charming here should leave or we'll never get an accurate number."

I handed Tom my phone and he stepped back, holding his hand up to wave goodbye as he ducked out the door with one last smile.  The nurse gave me a look.

"He's cute.  Boyfriend?"

I closed my eyes and tried to relax, listening to my alarmingly fast heartrate beating over the monitor.  "Yeah, he is."

She smiled.  "He must be a keeper.  I've never seen anybody's heart race like that from a peck on the cheek."

 

 

_To be continued..._

 

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

 

When I woke up in recovery, I could hear the faint, pleasing sound of Tom's voice in the distance, conversing with someone just beyond my realm of comprehension.  But it was okay, I didn't need to understand his words to be happy about hearing his voice; he was there, he was with me, and that had to mean something very special.

I struggled to throw off the groggy weighted haze of the anesthesia as his face came into view.  It was fuzzy and out of focus, but it was definitely him, all curly red-blonde hair and big blue-green eyes.  It struck me, in my drugged stupor, that nothing about him was absolute - his hair wasn't completely red nor completely blonde, yet somehow it was absolutely both, and the same was true of his eyes, even his skin.  He was like a chameleon caught in mid-shift, changing before the world's eyes, never sure what he truly was going to be until a decision was made for him in the form of a character being born.

It was like an epiphany, and I suddenly knew what my problem with him was, why I was holding back, what the niggling little hesitation in the back of my mind was all about.

I knew who I loved when I looked at him...but did he?  Did he have any idea who he even was?

I dozed off again as he was speaking to me, and when I woke again, more clearheaded and cognizant this time, I had forgotten about my epiphany, like a dream that you don't remember anymore once you're completely awake.

 

I bled for a week and it was messy, painful, and ultimately humiliating, but he coddled me through it.  Nothing seemed to scare him, nothing freaked him out, not even standing in the shower with me to keep me from passing out while the whole tub looked like a bloody murder scene. He made sure I ate, made sure I took my medications, made sure I rested, and when it was time for my post-op checkup he went with me and stayed in the room during the exam so he'd know everything the doctor said without having to rely on me to tell him.  No matter what I did, he was right there, either holding my hand to help me or just outright doing it for me.  Even peeing, which my bruised bladder turned into an experience in agony - after arguing with me about being ridiculous and refusing to take no for an answer, I found myself with company every time I went into the bathroom for the first two days, holding my hand, rubbing his hands up and down my legs to help me relax, encouraging me.  When I finally stopped crying it was all I could do not to laugh.  

I was embarrassed for him to see me like this, weak and in pain and a complete and utter wreck, but he seemed to love the fact that I was reliant on him for just about everything.  He was in his element, being his sweetly bossy self, feeling needed and stepping up to take care of me.  He literally basked in the responsibility, obviously loving every moment of it.  After a while I got used to it myself and just went with it, indulging his desire to do everything for me, allowing him, once again, complete control.  But I knew he wouldn't abuse it, and when the need for him to be the sole caregiver was no longer an issue, he would return that control back to me.

It was that assurance that made me receptive to the whole thing.

And once I'd gotten used to it, I found I didn't mind it as much as I thought I would.

 

He slept in my bed with me, curled up against my back most nights, spooning me comfortably with my head tucked up under his chin.  My doctor had told us there could be absolutely no sex of any kind for a minimum of two weeks, and then he'd decide if I needed to go longer after examining me to see how I was healing.  I have a tendency to take longer than normal to heal, and my history of inflamed incisions - not to mention my inflamed bladder - made me agree with him wholeheartedly that abstinence would be no problem.  Tom expressed his agreement and never gave me a moments trouble about it.  If he became aroused during the night, he never woke me, he would simply climb quietly out of bed and go take a shower, or take care of himself in the bathroom without disturbing me.  He was a complete gentleman.  He even kissed me differently, with absolute tenderness, always stopping the moment either of our heart rates started to climb so that we wouldn't end up frustrated or, worse, breaking the no-sex rule.

I was honestly surprised and delighted with him, this sweet, kind, nurturing man that had crawled out of the cocoon of the dark and dominant Sir William.

 

The day of my next checkup Tom came into the bedroom while I was dressing and stood in the doorway, watching me.  It was taking me a long time to zip my jeans because my stomach was still swollen and my incisions were sore, but he had been making a concerted effort to stop treating me like I was helpless, letting me do more and more things for myself as I recovered.  I could tell it was driving him nuts, standing there not helping, and after a few minutes of listening to me whimper in pain he went to the dresser and pulled out one of my sundresses.

"Why don't you wear this, sweetheart?  It'll be much easier to get into and I'm sure it would be far more comfortable on your incisions.  And you look so pretty in it."

I tried not to get angry - I really wanted to wear my jeans, since I hadn't been able to for two weeks now.  I'd been living in sweatpants, pajamas, and sundresses.  I _wanted_ my jeans.  I also didn't want him telling me what to wear, but I held my tongue and sighed, sitting down to take them back off again.  He was actually right, but I didn't want to admit it.  He brought me the dress with a sweet smile that hinted just slightly of an apology; he knew I was disappointed, and he wasn't going to say another word about it.

His reassuring smile shifted into a slightly nervous one a moment later.

"Anna, I...I have something to say to you, and I want you to listen very carefully when I say it.  I know you've felt confused by a lot of things that have gone on between us and I want to make absolutely certain that this one thing is clear to you. Can you do that for me?"

I stood and pulled the sundress on over my head, letting him tie the halter straps behind my neck.  "Yes, of course."

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes like he was summoning courage for something.  He sat down on the edge of the bed and held his hand up to me; I took it and he pulled me gently to him, urging me to sit down on his lap.  I had reservations about being intimate with him while we were still on my doctor-ordered sex restriction, but the look on his face was completely harmless, nothing lustful in it.  I sat down on his leg and he let his hand rest on my knee for a moment before he continued speaking.

"I didn't want to say this while we were in bed together, back in Spain.  It could have been taken as pillowtalk or heat of the moment and I didn't want it to be mistaken as such, since honestly we were pretty much in bed all the time.  And believe me, I had to bite my tongue hard several times to keep it from tumbling out."  He was looking sheepish now, his eyes flitting across the floor for a moment before he fixed them on me. He paused for what seemed like an uncomfortably long time, and when he finally opened his mouth again, it was a few long seconds before the words came out.

"I love you, Anna.  And...I want you to be my wife."

I stared at him, completely dumbfounded.  A proposal was the absolute last thing I had expected.  He had always joked about us having kids together, but that was always _one day..._ it wasn't right now, if ever, to be truthful.  I didn't say anything for a long time and neither did he, the first time I think I'd ever seen him without words.

When I could finally think of something to say, it was undoubtedly the wrong thing.

"Seriously?   _After all this,_ you actually want to marry me?  Are you sure?"

I knew it sounded stupid when I was saying it - it revealed my mindset, and my mindset was ridiculously shallow and vain at that moment.  I was angry and irritated at my situation and couldn't think of anything except all the recent embarrassments and indignities and flares of pain-induced temper that would have sent a lesser man packing.  But I didn't take it back, or correct it with something that I _should_ have said, because I realized a moment later that his answer would reveal far more than I would ever have thought to ask.

"Well that's how I know I'm sure about it.  I was sure before, but now we've been together for two weeks without sex, with every sort of unpleasantness imaginable, and I'm even more sure now than ever before." He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it gently.  "Sweetheart, I've seen you at what you say is your absolute worst and it doesn't scare me.  It just makes me want to hold you all that much tighter."

I honestly didn't know what to say.  I hadn't expected anything like this, and I wasn't prepared for it.  All I could do was look at him.

"Why right now?  I mean - why are you asking me, right now?"

He smiled, his eyes warm and kind, the way I'd seen them so often since his arrival.  "I know this isn't the most romantic moment I could have arranged, and it probably seems a bit spur of the moment...in all honesty I suppose it was, to be truthful.  I just...I saw you struggling and I wanted you to know what I know.  That I love you, and want to be with you."

I put my hand over my mouth, not knowing what to say, trying to get my bearings before I attempted to say anything.  But he stopped me.

"Don't answer me right now, darling.  I know you're unhappy at the moment, and probably nervous about this appointment...there's no rush, I'm not going anywhere."  He stroked one long finger across my cheekbone, then slid it playfully down my nose.  "Lets find your shoes and get going, shall we?"

 

The doctor cleared me for everything, including some light lifting, driving, and, with certain limitations, sex.  When he said it, filling out my paperwork and writing instructions concerning these "limitations", I felt a sense of dread slowly work its way through me.  I had succeeded, through no real doing of my own, at pulling my relationship with Tom into the realm of the real world, where we spent our days together without the distraction of foreplay and sex and the endless ways these two things could prevent people from really getting to know one another. We'd discovered that we really, truly _liked_ each other, in the midst of sickness and recovery, without sex being on the table in any shape, form, or fashion.  It was liberating and freeing and I knew without doubt that he was seeing me now as a full fledged person, not just someone he slept with and had a jolly grand time with in bed.  And now we were being given permission to return to that part of our relationship.  I was honestly afraid to go there.

 

He took me out to eat after my appointment and I could see the change in the way he looked at me.  It was the same, yes, but with something else added to it now.  An anticipation.  I knew it hadn't been easy for him, doing without for all this time.  He was a very sexual person, all tactile and sensual and very very physical.  He'd done his best to keep his hands off me and had done an admirable job, never once crossing any boundaries, respecting my need to be left alone as far as that was concerned.  But now he was free to seduce me again, and I knew he was aching to get started.

He sat close to me at dinner, his hip against mine, his thigh rubbing against the skirt of my dress, making it ride up so that he could reach under the table and - gentleman that he was - slide it back down, letting his long fingers stroke lovingly along the inside of my leg as he did so. Nothing overt or disrespectful, just letting me know that he was happy with the doctor's decision and wanted to gently get me accustomed to such touches again.  I didn't protest or resist.  I could feel his sexually dominant side awakening again, and knew it would take very little for it to come roaring into action.  Something inside me was almost sad that the exclusive nurturing was about to end, but something else, slightly deeper and less acknowledged, felt secretly excited.  As much as I would have liked to ignore it, I couldn't deny that I loved sleeping with him.  I just hoped I could be sure who exactly it was that I was sleeping with.

 

When we got home, he started the seduction.  He worked slowly and gently, easing me into it, not rushing or pressuring me, but I could sense the urgency in him even though he didn't let it show.  I tried feigning indifference, pretending not to notice what he was doing.  The truth was that I was absolutely terrified that it was going to hurt, since I was still sore and my insides felt so bruised and swollen, but I kept it from him, knowing his feelings would be hurt that I didn't trust him to be gentle enough.  In truth I did trust him, and I knew he wouldn't hurt me if he could help it.  It was the "can't be helped" part that I was scared to death of.

After a glass of wine and a slow dance in the livingroom to his hummed version of _At Last,_ he started kissing me with intent.

I hesitated, like I had been all evening, pushing him away just slightly.  He moved away from me immediately and looked me in the eyes, his face taking on an expression caught somewhere between fearful worry and resigned contrition.  He had noticed my standoffishness, my obvious unwillingness to be led into intimacy, no matter how gently he led me.

"What's different, Anna?" he asked quietly.

I looked at him, at those beautiful blue-green eyes, so big and kind and sweet and full of love.  His face was heartbreaking - not just his expression, but his face itself.  Kind and sweet and rugged and masculine all at once, like he was unsure of exactly what he was supposed to be so he became a mashup of all of it.  I understood now why he was a brilliant actor.  His talent was exactly like his face.  He could become anything he needed to be.

I suddenly remembered waking up in recovery, my first thoughts when his face had come into focus.  The uncertain reality of him.

I wondered if he had become what I needed him to be.  And if that was the case, who was he really?  This chameleon of a man could become anything or anyone with so little effort.  It was scary.  When I knew him on the set, he was fearlessly dominant, wickedly dark, overly confident and completely, relentlessly the boss of any and all situations.  The man before me now was quick to smile, even quicker to laugh, charged recklessly back and forth between manly and childlike, was confident but sometimes shy, and seemed to shoot sunshine out his eyesockets. How could they even be the same person?  They didn't even look the same.  The magic of stage makeup and a quick change of hair color, a few pounds gained or lost, yes...and perhaps if the two of them stood side by side the resemblance would be there.  But looking at him now, I felt like I was with a stranger I had just met.  

"You just seem like a different person.  You look different...but mostly you just _are_ different.  It's like I knew Sir William on the set and now I'm meeting...you."

He seemed confused for a moment, his brow furrowing.  "But I'm the same person, Anna.  It's me."  He stared intently at me for a moment, then his face fell.  "Did you fall in love with... _him?"_

I shook my head immediately, without hesitation.  That wasn't it at all.  I hadn't fallen in love with Sir William, in fact I wasn't sure I had fallen in love at all.  Loved, yes, but _fallen_ in love?  That was different.

"No.  I didn't fall in love with him.  But it is like _he's_ the person I knew.  He's the person I met."  He looked like he was about to cry and I pressed my hand to his cheek; he pushed his face against it, closing his eyes tight.  "Just give me a little time to get used to you, to being in the real world with the real you."

He nodded and opened his eyes again; they were swimming in tears, bright and sparkling.  "It _was_ all rather quick, wasn't it darling?" he asked quietly.  "We can go more slowly this time, if you like."

I stroked his cheek and he pressed into the caress, like a cat keening at its master's petting.  "We'll end up in the same place no matter what speed we move at, Tom," I reassured him.  "Just...give me a little time to catch up.  I think what's throwing me off is how different it feels now."

"How is it different?"

"What I feel now, since you're here, in _my_ life, not in the make believe life we lived on the set...it's deeper.  Feels...more real."

His mouth began to spread into that wide, gorgeous grin and everything about his face lit up instantly.  "You mean...it's...better?"

I nodded.  "I think so."

He laughed a little, looking down shyly at his hands.  "And here I was ready to be kicked to the curb."

I reached up to flick the little errant curl that always seemed to be falling onto his forehead.  "When we were together on the set, it was like living in an alternate universe," I explained, feeling the need to make sure he understood.  "You looked different, you acted different, everything about the lives we were living was different.  I felt irresistibly drawn to you and I wanted to fall in love with you, but there was something...standing between us."  He looked even more confused, but kept silent.  "So I never actually fell in love.  I loved you, yes.  But I didn't _fall_ in love.  I couldn't.  And I thought it was because of Eric or my past or...I don't know.  But I was wrong."  He looked so anxious, waiting for my next words, his face remaining passive but his eyes betraying a creeping sense of heartbreak.  I knew he was waiting for the words that would make or break him.  I drew in a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes.  "It wasn't any of those things.  What was between us was Sir William."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise.  

"And now that he's gone, I'm finally seeing the man my heart was trying to fall in love with."

He tentatively moved his hands to my sides, pulling me very slightly toward him.  "Is it working?  Is your heart able to, now?"

I nodded, giving him a smile.  "Yes.  Most definitely.  But everything is different since he's not part of you anymore.  And I do want to go more slowly in some aspects - but not everything.  We've already established so many things between us, and none of that has changed.  I don't want to start anything over."

He understood, it was obvious by the look on his face, the earnest way he nodded his head in agreement.  "Absolutely, sweetheart.  I think I know what you're saying."

"Do you?"

He smiled.  "The sex has always been incredible, but yes, some of it was definitely influenced by the character, I think.  He was a darker version of me though, darling, so what you'll get now that he's gone is probably a slightly less intense dose of the same thing."  He lowered his head and pressed his forehead against mine.  "Think you can live with that?  When you're ready, that is."

He understood.  He _got it._  I was so relieved that I wasn't going to have to argue with him about our sex life; I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him, letting myself melt into him.  A huge weight was off my mind and I felt lighter, happier.  So relieved.

He kissed my forehead and held me tight.  "We'll move at your pace, darling.  When you're ready to sleep with me, we'll do it.  Not until then."

I looked up at him.  "Are you sure you're okay with that?  I'm not the only one in this relationship.  I know you have needs too."

That smile again.  "I'm good with it, sweetheart.  I never want you to do anything you feel uncomfortable with, or to let me rush you into anything you're not ready for.  I won't pressure you."  He kissed me again. "Your pace.  When you're ready."

 

That night as we changed into our nightclothes he looked at me across the bed, where he was undressing.  He looked like he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do; he had just taken off his pants and was standing there in his boxers and teeshirt, looking at me questioningly.

"Where do you want me to sleep, Anna?"

I sat on my side of the bed with my back to him and pulled my shirt off, tugging on my sleep shirt.  "You can sleep here in the bed, Tom, it's okay.  I'm not booting you out."  I looked back at him over my shoulder and found him still standing there, completely unsure.

"Are you certain?  Because I can move to the guest room if you'd feel more comfortable - "

I turned to him.  "Would you feel more comfortable in the guest room?"

"Um...no.  I'd really rather be with you."

"Then be with me."  I smiled and pulled the blankets back, crawling under them.  He did the same on his side of the bed and I scooted over against him, snuggling up into his side.  "If this gives you...you know,  _problems_...you can take care of yourself," I whispered into his shoulder, planting a soft kiss against his skin.  "You have my permission."

He sighed, turning onto his side to face me.  "I'm glad you told me how you felt, instead of just letting me do things you didn't want.  I'd have felt terrible if I found out you were sleeping with me just because it's what I wanted."  He kissed the tip of my nose and settled in close to me.  "Always do that, okay Anna?  Tell me how you feel, and ask me not to do something if it's not what you want.  Promise."

I pushed my head up under his chin and nodded.  "I will.  I promise."

We slept like that all night, cuddled close, our arms draped over each other, breathing each other's air.  It felt safe and warm and comforting, and when we awakened the following morning, I helped him take care of the uncomfortable arousal he'd woken up with.  It was sweet and I felt closer to him than I ever had before, closer even than all the times he'd been inside me, and when he came he looked at me with those soft blue eyes and a look of complete trust and affection.  His moans died into whimpers and there was nothing of the darkly dominant William in him to make me feel chilled with deviant excitement - just an overwhelming need to hold him close and still his shaking shoulders, feeling his rasping breaths against the skin of my neck as he calmed again in my arms.

 

 

_To be continued..._


	18. Chapter 18

 

 

I staggered slowly into the kitchen, not completely awake but drawn like a cat to catnip by the smell of coffee brewing.  Tom was always up long before me, going for his morning run, and then he would shower and make breakfast or bring me whatever he'd picked up at the bakery while he was out.  He explored the city while he ran, and knew more about it now than I did - I was always surprised when he told me about some market or shop he'd found, as I didn't even know half of them existed.  He seemed to like it here.  His skin was getting really tan from all the sun and it made his eyes seem bluer, his hair blonder.  There he went, changing before my eyes again.  His personality seemed affected by the sunlight and fresh mountain air as well, and he was becoming even cheerier than before, if that was possible.  I tousled his hair as I shuffled by and went to the coffee pot to pour myself a cup.

"Good morning sweetheart, did you sleep well?  You were restless last night."

I nodded, wincing at the scalding heat of my first sip.  "I'm good.  How was your run?  Find any cool new places today?"

"It was great.  Did you know there's a museum seven miles from here?"

I blinked at him.  "You ran seven miles?"

He had gotten up and came over to squeeze my shoulders, kissing the top of my head.  "Seven there and seven back."

"That's fourteen.  How are you still alive?"

He laughed and gave my shoulders another squeeze, then let go.  "I'm gonna go shower, then we can figure out what we want to do today.  Oh and you need to call your dean, don't forget."

I sighed.  I didn't want to call my dean, mainly because I wasn't sure what I was going to say to her.  I had been granted time off from classes for my surgery and recovery and I had a lot of catching up to do; some of my classwork had been emailed to me and I'd been doing it a little at a time so that I didn't fall too far behind.  But as far as going back to classes...I glanced over at the doorway where Tom had just disappeared to go upstairs.  Things were different now and I wasn't sure what I intended to do.

I wasn't looking forward to talking to the dean _or_ Tom about this.

 

I went upstairs and crawled up on the bed, listening to him singing in the shower.  He was such a goofy man sometimes, it was adorable and endearing without crossing over that extremely thin line into annoying. I'd been thinking about his proposal.  It hadn't actually _been_ a proposal so much as a statement of intent - he hadn't said _"Will you marry me",_ he'd said _"I want you to be my wife"._  The two were very different things, even though the end result was, eventually, the same.  He hadn't brought it up again though.

There were two folded up pieces of paper on the bed.  I opened one and recognized it as the discharge sheet from the hospital.  The nurse had handed it to Tom and I remembered him putting it in his pocket while I was being bullied into a wheelchair by an orderly that was twice Tom's size.  I was unfolding the second one when he came out of the bathroom, toweling his hair with a hand towel, another larger one tied around his waist.  He joined me on the bed with a smile, stretching out on his back next to me.

"I forgot I had those, I found them in my pocket this morning.  You should read the one from the doctor."  He tossed the towel he'd been drying his hair with onto the floor at the foot of the bed and rolled over onto his stomach so that his shoulder was against my knee.  "It has your instructions for the next stage of recovery."

I grimaced.  This recovery thing was taking so long and was so much harder and more painful than anyone had warned me about.  I'd had three incisions instead of one, and they were bigger than anticipated because they had to do more than the standard outlined procedure once they'd gotten in there.  But I was getting better and I could tell my insides were fixed, no matter how sore and unhappy they were at the moment.

I opened the second piece of paper; it was, like he said, from my last checkup and the doctor had written out his instructions on it.  Light lifting, nothing over five pounds.  Okay to drive, put something between seatbelt and stomach to protect incisions.  Restriction lifted for sexual intercourse with limitations - MUST use condoms, wash afterwards to prevent UTI.  500mg Tylenol 1/2 hour before for pain.  Ice packs for swelling after if needed.  

Tylenol _before_ sex for pain?  Ice packs after?  Yikes.

"My god this is scary."

He reached up and put his hand on my knee, squeezing it gently.  "I know, I read it.  I also remember him saying it is extremely important that we be very careful not to get you pregnant until you're completely healed.  I believe it was a minimum of three months."

I nodded.  We'd have to get some condoms, and soon, because I knew I was going to start sleeping with him again before long.  I'd been trying to get myself into the right mindset for it, but every time I bent over or moved a certain way I felt a jolt of sharp heated pain stab through my lower abdomen, and lower even than that.  And then there was the bladder thing, which still made me cry almost every time I peed.  The idea of having sex gave me a shudder of dread that I couldn't shake off.

He was smiling at me when I looked at him again.  

"Do you know what that means, Anna?"

I stared at him dumbly, not sure what he was talking about.

"It means you can get pregnant now."

The sudden realization of what he was saying burst through me like an alarm going off.   _I could get pregnant now._ For as long as I could remember I'd wanted to have babies, and now I could.  His warm hand came up to press against my stomach, very gently, and he leaned over to kiss my knee.  

"Do you want to talk?"

I waited a moment, staring at the paper full of messily scribbled instructions that dictated how my intimate relationship with Tom would have to be for a while.  It seemed cold and clinical, like our sex life was a matter of medical interest and nothing else, under the strict jurisdiction of someone neither of us knew.  How strange it felt.

I nodded but didn't say anything. 

"Darling I know you have commitment issues...and that's okay.  I know why.  I also know that you don't feel completely comfortable with me yet and I understand that too - you're getting used to me as just plain old me, and that's pretty much a new person to you."  His hand was rubbing my knee slowly, gently, never venturing any further up my leg.  "But you're giving me a chance.  Now I think you should give yourself a chance, as well."

I knew what he meant, but I didn't respond.  I wasn't sure I was ready to get into the whole Eric thing, and that was exactly where he was going.  As always, he picked up immediately on what I was thinking, almost like he'd read my mind.

"We have to talk about him at some point," he said quietly, not using his name.  "If that time isn't now, then we'll do it later - but we have to do it, sweetheart.  He's between us and I don't want him there."

That statement startled me.  I hadn't thought about Eric being between us, but he definitely was, maybe even more so than Sir William had been.  I had always tried not to think about him, and therefore the reality of his affect on my relationship with Tom wasn't something I had considered.  But now, there it was, all the more stark and real because Tom had said it.

_I don't want him there._

I had kept him pushed to the back of my mind in an attempt to control how deeply he haunted me, but here he was, haunting someone else through me despite the handle I thought I had on him.  Tom turned his palm up and wiggled his fingers, his way of letting me know he wanted me to hold his hand.  I gripped one of his fingers and squeezed it as he wrapped the others around my fist.

"I know he hurt you, darling.  I don't know how, but I know he did.  If you could tell me, I could help you deal with it...maybe help you put him away so he doesn't affect you anymore.  Will you let me try?"

"Yes, but - "  I knew it had to be painfully obvious that I was afraid to actually proceed.  He saw it right away.

"Would you like to do like you did in the cab?  Turn your back to me so you don't have to look at me while you're talking about him?"

I nodded immediately, then just as quickly changed my mind.  I needed to look at him this time.  No more hiding from him.

"No.  I shouldn't be ashamed, right?"

His eyebrows went up.  "Absolutely not, sweetheart.  You have nothing to be ashamed about."

"Okay then.  Let's deal with him."

Tom sat up and went to get his clothes, telling me to wait just a minute as he strode quickly into the bathroom to get dressed.  He didn't shut the door behind him and I could see him as he dropped his towel and started pulling on his jeans.  For the first time in weeks I felt a warmth spread through my lower body when I looked at him; it cheered me up, thinking it had to be a good sign that things were getting back to normal, both between us and inside my hopefully repaired body.  The sight of him tugging his jeans up over his slim hips and zipping them, leaving the top button undone as he pulled on a teeshirt over his still damp torso was arousing, undoubtedly, but I'd seen it many times over the course of the last weeks.  This was the first time since my procedure that I'd been physically affected by it.

He returned and sat in the big plush chair near the bed, running his hands through his damp hair.  I looked at him, wondering why he had settled over there instead of on the bed with me - and of course, he noticed my expression immediately.

"I thought you might feel more comfortable if I wasn't crowding you."  He gave me that reassuring smile, the one from my first day on the set, and it made me feel at ease now, just like it had then.  "I'll sit anywhere you want me, Anna."

I thought about it for a moment.  Having him at a distance might make the subject matter easier to broach, but I honestly wanted him closer.  Without me saying a word, he stood and scooted the chair right up next to the bed, leaving just enough room between us that I could have my own uninvaded space but he could still reach out and touch me.  The man was uncanny in his ability to read me so well.

I took a deep breath and put my hands over my face, pushing in on my eyelids in an attempt to clear my mind and muster my courage.  Talking about Eric was difficult, bordering on traumatic for me.  I had a feeling Tom was going to be horrified by what I was about to tell him, but I knew he'd take it and use it however he could to help me.  I peeked at him through my fingers and saw him frowning.  He didn't like it when I covered my face like that.

"What did he do to you, Anna."

I was determined not to cry this time, but his voice almost broke it for me.  I knew if I spoke my voice would fall apart, so I turned my back and lifted the bottom of my shirt, just enough for him to see the mark that he'd already seen dozens of times.  He'd even traced it with his fingers during intimate moments, had leaned over and kissed it more than once.  I let my shirt fall and turned back to face him again.

"He did that?"

"Yes."  My voice was small and timid but it didn't break.

He took a deep breath, his eyes falling to his lap for a moment before he looked at me again.  "With what?"

"His belt."

His hand went to his face and he scrubbed his palm over his mouth and chin.  I knew it was a gesture men used to compose themselves, but the sound of his scruffy whiskers scraping against his hand was oddly comforting.

"He beat you?  Or was that his cruel version of a spanking?"

I wasn't sure, really.  Sometimes the two had seemed to overlap and I'd often lost track of what was what.  

"Is either one better than the other?" I asked quietly.

He shook his head, his jaw clenched hard.  "No, neither one is better."  He looked at me and I could tell he was forcing himself to not look angry.  "How many times?"

"Lots.  Often.  I don't know how many, toward the end it seemed like it was daily."

"You were scared of him, weren't you.  Too scared to leave.  He was dangerous and he threatened you."

I nodded, wondering if my story was so typical that he could recite it to me like this without me even telling him the details.  I'd told him some of it, in the cab that day in Spain, but he was filling in the blanks on his own and it was eerily accurate.  He sat looking at me for several seconds with his hand covering the lower half of his face.  

I decided it was time for me to take control of the moment; after a deep breath, I started talking.

"He was...unbalanced, I guess you'd call it.  Manic maybe.  He was always either completely happy or completely furious, there was no in-between, ever.  He'd get violent and then bring me flowers, and he really believed that made it okay.  Sometimes he'd tell me he was sorry, but toward the end, when he was really messed up..."  I hesitated, not sure I wanted to share this part with Tom.  I looked at him and he was just sitting there, his face expressionless with the exception of that one eyebrow that so perfectly showed his worry.  "He stopped saying sorry and started the psychological stuff so that I wouldn't feel like I deserved apologies.  And when he had me where he wanted me, with so little self esteem that _I_ apologized to _him_ whenever he got mad...then he turned into a monster.  He'd been a saint before, in comparison."  I closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to see Tom's face; I knew his expression was about to change.  "The good news was that he eased off on the beatings. The bad news was that he replaced them with a - _different_ kind of assault."

There was a pause, hanging heavy for a moment before Tom exhaled; he'd been holding his breath, and now I found myself doing the same.

"He raped you?"

There it was, out in the open between us, and it was him that said it, not me.  I wanted to thank him for not making me say the words.  It was a relief.  I nodded and realized with some surprise that I hadn't started crying yet.

"I'm sorry, baby."  His voice sounded deeply grieved and it broke my heart to hear the anguish in it.  He waited a long while before he spoke again, giving me time to deal with it, or maybe giving himself time to get a grip on whatever he was feeling.

"Did anyone help you?"

I shook my head.  The police had been called just once - they had come out to check on our "domestic dispute" and had been met by a smiling, totally charming Eric, who proceeded to convince them I was hormonal and had actually come at him with a lamp.  It was true, I had broken a lamp across his back trying to get away from him, and he had the proof to show them.  But it had nothing to do with my hormones. I couldn't say anything in my own defense because he had threatened to kill me if I tried to tell them the truth.  After that night, after being strangled nearly to death and raped repeatedly as punishment, I never tried to get help again.

When I told all this to Tom, he nodded, his face a mask of intense pain, tempered with a deep compassion and barely concealed heartache for me.  

There was more, all of it ugly and horrifying, and I confessed it all to him; he sat silently listening to every word, never interrupting me, not asking any more questions.  Just listening.  And when I was finished, he asked quietly if he could come sit next to me.  I nodded and he climbed onto the bed beside me, very slowly, settling his arm behind my back so I could lean into him if I wanted.  

He didn't say anything and neither did I, for a long time.  We just sat there, and eventually I snuggled up under his arm and let him hug me.

"Still want me to be your wife?" I asked, intending it to be in jest but realizing too late that my shaky voice turned it into something else, something completely unsure and scared.  He squeezed me closer to him and kissed the top of my head.

"More than ever," he whispered.

 

We eventually moved to the livingroom and called in a pizza, both of us knowing the conversation wasn't over but neither of us wanting to reopen it just yet.  It had been emotionally draining for both of us and we didn't want to put each other through any more of it, but while we were sitting on the floor eating our pizza, he gave me a look that was stuck somewhere between deep concern and outright worry.  I gave him a little smile so he would know it was okay to say it, whatever it was.

"The way I treat you - are you okay with all of that?  You said he was dominant with you sexually...you could have told me, sweetheart.  If that bothers you, if it triggers you or - "

I reached out and grabbed his hand, shaking my head vehemently.  "No, no, listen to me please...there's a kind of twisted psychology to this, I've spent a lot of time thinking about it."  He stopped and gave me his complete attention.  "Remember that time on set, when I got kinda weird and you thought I was upset and came and got me out of the shower?"

He nodded.

"That was...that was a big turning point for me, that was when I realized for the first time that things weren't the way I'd assumed they would always be for me.  He was aggressive and dominant and forceful, yes, and I didn't want it.  I didn't want _any_ of it.  It was forced on me and I had no say in it, so it was awful and I hated it.  But then you..."  I let my voice trail off for a moment, trying to put my thoughts into the right words so that I didn't mess this up.  It was too delicate to just be blurted out.  "You did so many of the same things, the same types of things, but it was completely different.  You didn't force any of it on me and I always had a say.  You told me in those exact words - 'don't ever think that you don't have a say' - _that_ was the difference.  That was when I realized that I was okay with the dominance, that it was actually something that I _liked_ and _wanted_.  It was just the way it was presented to me - by him - that I had issues with."  I reached up and touched his face and he closed his eyes, leaning his cheek into my hand.  "The way you did it made me realize I wanted it, it was something that made me happy.  Because you did it right."  I stroked his face a little and he opened his eyes.  "What freaked me out that day on the set was the fact that your _character_ was acting like _him_ in that scene."

He nodded and I knew he understood.  There was a tiny smile teasing at the corners of his lips and I felt so immensely relieved that I hadn't screwed this up.  

"No wonder you couldn't fall in love with me while the dark bastard was around."

I laughed, almost in tears that things were actually going to be okay between us.  We had a little relationship maintenance to do, but it was going to be okay.

 

 

_To be continued..._


	19. Chapter 19

 

 

A week had gone by since we'd cleared the air about Eric and made our agreement to postpone resumption of romantic activities; we were doing okay, still sharing the bed, cuddling and snuggling as always, even a bit of kissing from time to time.  Despite the occasional need for a quick shower on Tom's part or a few minutes on his own first thing in the morning, the subject of sex was never brought up again.  But I caught him often, looking at me with that wistful, longing gaze of his, the one that always told me he wished he could have me.  There was the lingering touch of his fingers on my elbow as he went past me in the kitchen, or the slight, barely noticeable brush of his hip against my backside as he reached around me to turn on the bathroom sink at night, little things that let me know he still desired me even though nothing was an option until I said so.  I knew he was suffering, but bless his heart, he never said a word...just kept on giving me hugs and cooking me breakfast and tending to me in any way I would let him.   

I was starting to feel like maybe it was time.  I knew without any doubt that all the weeks we'd spent together without sexual intimacy had clarified in my own mind the fact that I loved him as _him_ , not as the character he'd been playing when we met.  I was accustomed to him now, to his presence, to everything about him, and thanks to his acuity with caregiving I knew that I trusted him and he was worthy and deserving of that trust.  I wanted to be with him again, not just wrapped in his arms at night, not just kissing him on the sofa while we watched movies together, not just sitting across from each other at the breakfast table talking about what we were going to do with our day.  All of that, yes, but I wanted him whispering those words that he always said to me when he was making love to me, the ones that made me moan and arch into him, the words that always drove the nail into my coffin as far as total breakdown of resolve.  I wanted that and his touch, his warm hands and warmer skin, all over me again.

I started watching him more closely, especially when he was dressing for his run in the morning or showering in my clear glass shower stall afterwards.  He wasn't the least bit self conscious or shy, so he let me look all I wanted, sometimes giving me a wink or a wicked grin before I looked away.  I knew he was fully aware of what was happening, but he never mentioned it, he just let me look.

And then one morning I woke up as he was coming into the bedroom after his morning run; he kicked off his shoes and tossed them into the closet, then retreated to the bathroom for his shower.  I rolled over in the bed and watched him through the open door - he didn't know I was awake and carried on with that completely confident, careless air that men have when they don't know they're being watched.  As he undressed and stepped into the shower, I became vaguely aware of a very slight, almost unrecognizable tickling sensation deep in my stomach.  It was something I hadn't felt for a very long time and I almost didn't even notice it, it was so small and quiet...I just watched him for a while, enjoying the way the soap trickled over his body, following the lines and bulges of his muscles on its way down.  But as he washed the sweat from his body and turned toward the door, and therefore toward me to let the spray hit his back, my eyes were drawn downward and the small quiet tickle started to grow into a smoldering ember.  His big, beautiful cock, jutting out at the end of that sexy dark trail of hair that started at his bellybutton, where I loved to tickle him with my tongue.  And then his head dropped and he put one hand against the wall, leaning his weight against it.   _Poor baby, he's tired from his run_  was the first thing that entered my mind.  But as his other hand moved slowly down his stomach to wrap around his shaft, I realized he wasn't tired.  

He was lonely.

I argued with myself for a moment about whether I should watch or not.  He still didn't know I was awake - he wasn't putting on a show for me, this was his own private time and I was invading it without his knowledge.  I knew I should stop looking.  But something else in me wanted to see him do it, to watch him pleasure himself, on his own without my help.

I was still trying to shame myself out of it when I suddenly realized I wasn't going to have to.  He only held himself for a moment, then he reached down and turned the cold faucet to full blast.

I knew then that it was definitely time for us to get back on track with this final aspect of our relationship.  He deserved to have his needs met, and I knew without any doubt now that he was suffering silently while I took my time, adjusting to him and how our relationship would work in the real world.  I was healed enough from my surgery, there was no medical reason that I could validly stand behind.  It was time.

He came out of the bathroom, his hair dripping, his skin chilled white from the icy water he'd just tortured himself with.  He looked anything but happy until he saw that I was awake...and then his face lit up and he broke into a wide, genuine smile.

"Good morning darling, did you sleep well?"  He sat on the bed next to me and rubbed his hand up and down my back soothingly.  His fingers were so cold through my nightshirt that they made me shiver.

I'd never felt so guilty in my life.

 

That night I decided I had mustered enough courage to tell him I was ready.  He was on the floor going through my DVDs and I was laying on the sofa throwing popcorn at his head.  He was catching most of it in his mouth like one of those trained circus dogs that never miss the frisbee no matter where it's thrown.

"I was thinking...maybe...maybe we could make love tonight."

His head shot up and he stared at me with his mouth slightly open, his eyes wide.  He stammered for a moment around the popcorn he'd just caught and then lowered his head, swallowing hard, giving his tongue time to sort itself out before he tried to speak again.

"Of course, darling.  If you feel up to it - if you think you're ready.  We can certainly try."

I nodded and didn't say anything else.  I didn't really want to talk about it, afraid that if I did, I would end up overthinking it and chicken out.  My stomach was still so touchy and swollen, it would be easy to talk myself out of it.  But I couldn't stop thinking about how sad he had looked that morning in the shower, and how he had opted for the cold water instead of relieving himself.

He sensed my hesitation and put his hand on my elbow, squeezing it gently.

"You know there's no rush, right?  Absolutely none.  I'm still okay with everything...we're all good here Anna."

I rubbed the back of my fingers across his chin, playing with his stubble.  It was more of a beard now than just whiskers, and I had decided I liked it.  He smiled at me and his eyes were bright and happy.

"I know.  But I don't want to wait too long - honestly, I want it too, maybe as bad as you do."  I scrunched up my face and gave him a shy look, slightly embarrassed at my admission.  "The only thing really holding me back now is...well, I'm scared."

His face fell and he reached up to take my hand from his chin.  "Scared of what, sweetheart?  Of me?"

I thought about it a moment before answering.  It was the prospect of what I imagined would be some pretty horrific pain that I feared, but technically it would be him causing that pain, so the honest answer had to be yes, I was scared of him.  But I couldn't do that to him.  Not to Tom, the sweetest man I'd ever known, the man who had traveled from another continent to take care of me.  It would kill him to think I thought him capable of causing me purposeful pain.

"I'm scared it's going to hurt.  A lot."

He pressed my knuckles to his mouth and kissed them, then held them there for a moment with his eyes closed.  I could feel his warm breath blowing softly over my fingers.  Then he nodded and gave them another quick kiss.

"That's a very valid fear, darling.  You've been in pain for a long time and I know you're still not completely healed.  That's why I'm perfectly fine with continuing to wait until you feel absolutely ready."  He reached down to stroke my cheek with my hand still clasped in his.  "But if you really do want to try, we can see what happens.  You have my solemn word that I will be as gentle with you as I can, and that all you have to do is say stop if it's too much."

That was all I needed to hear.  I stood up from the sofa and pulled him by the hand, indicating that he should follow me, and we walked upstairs to the bedroom together.  He went to turn on the light when we reached the bedroom, but I asked him to leave it off.

"Okay," he said, sounding a little confused.  "The lamp?"

"Can we just leave everything off?"

"Baby what's wrong?  Why don't you want any lights?"

I started to rethink my decision, a feeling of slight panic rising in my stomach.  I fought it down, determined to do this.  "Never mind, it's okay.  The lamp is okay."

He moved to the bed and switched on the little bedside lamp, looking at me for approval.  I nodded.  Maybe it was dim enough.  He reached out for my hand and pulled me slowly toward him till I was against his chest.

"You don't want me to see you, do you."

Once again, he got it.  He was getting very, very good at this.  "No."

"Is it because of your bruising?"

"Yes.  Sort of."  My stomach was terribly discolored still, and of course I had three inflamed incisions that didn't exactly look sexy.  I was also swollen from all the internal cutting.  I couldn't imagine him wanting to look at all that while trying to get aroused.

"Sweetheart...I've seen all that, haven't I.  Do you really think it bothers me?  I cleaned your incisions for two weeks, remember?"

I grimaced; yes, I remembered, and I had closed my eyes and bit back the humiliation every time he did.  I was so sore I couldn't even bend forward enough to see the bottom two, so his willingness to take on the job had been a blessing.  But this was something decidedly less clinical and the two weren't meshing in my head.

"I just...I don't feel..."

"You don't feel sexy."

"Yes!  Exactly - I don't feel sexy.  And I may never again, after all the embarrassing things you've had to do for me."

He chuckled softly, taking my face in his hands.  "Oh baby...you're so wrong.  I find it incredibly sexy that you've trusted me enough to let me do these things for you."

"My god Tom, you wiped my cookie when I was crying too hard to do it myself because it hurt so bad to pee."

His chuckle turned into a fullblown laugh and he hugged me.  "I bet not even most married couples can say they've shared that experience."

"And even fewer would want to."

"I want to.  I want to share everything with you."

I looked up at him and in that moment there was so much naked honesty in his face that I felt like crying.  Standing in the dark and crying because I was too self conscious to let him look at me in the light.  I was ashamed of myself, deeply, for thinking that way.  To put so little value on all the things he'd done for me over the past three weeks that I would reduce it to something to be embarrassed about...

It meant more to me than that, far more.  He deserved better than this.

"Turn on the lights," I finally whispered.

He hesitated, knowing somewhere inside him that this was going to be a struggle for me.  "Wait," he said quietly.  He went to the dresser and pulled out one of his teeshirts and brought it to me.  "Arms up," he ordered in a soft but authoritative voice;  I obeyed immediately and he carefully pulled my shirt up over my head, then turned me around and unhooked my bra, removing it while my back was to him.  While I was still facing away, he put his big, loose teeshirt on over my head and helped me tuck my arms through the sleeves.  "There, that should be comfy and efficient."

It covered me to my thighs but was loose enough to move in, easy to navigate around.  And most importantly, it was soft against my sore skin and covered everything I didn't want him to see.

I loved him so much in that moment that I almost couldn't breathe.

"Thank you."

He smiled wide, his eyes crinkling up, happy that I was happy.  "Hop into bed sweetheart, I have to make a quick run to the pharmacy."

I gave him a confused look.  "Pharmacy?"

He was already across the room and gave a little laugh as he opened the dresser drawer and took out a box of condoms.  "Told you it would be a quick trip, you're not even in bed yet."  He pulled back the blankets and I climbed in, starting to feel a little giggly.

"When did you buy condoms?"

"The day the doctor cleared you for sex.  Well, I may have waited a day."  He didn't look the least bit ashamed of himself and I started laughing, suddenly feeling much better about the whole thing.  He dropped the little box into the top drawer of the bedside table where it could be reached easily.  "Now, before I get in that bed with you, we have to set a few rules."

He started undressing while I sat propped up on the pillows, watching him.  

"First, and this is absolutely the most important thing, and if I catch you for one moment disregarding this rule there will be trouble.  I mean it Anna.  There is no circumventing this rule.  The rest we can play with a bit if necessary."

I nodded, waiting to see where this was going.

"If at any time you need to stop - or just _want_ to stop, for any reason, no matter what it is - we stop.  There will be no brave-facing it, no sucking it up and soldiering on.  The first moment you feel pain that you can't deal with or distress of any kind, or panic, the brakes go on.  We will stop, full stop, and either fix whatever's wrong or make the decision to quit for the night.  It doesn't all have to happen in one session, you know."  He gave me a piercing stare and I nodded my approval, then remembered the rules he'd had back in Spain - nodding wasn't an appropriate answer, he needed to hear me say it.  He hadn't been enforcing that rule since he'd been in the States with me, but I thought maybe it was time to start respecting it again.

"Yes, Sir."

He had been about to speak again but he froze, mouth open, his next words failing to come out when he heard what I'd said.  His face broke into a wide grin and he ducked his head for a moment, trying to hide his obvious delight.  He peeked at me out of the corner of one eye and gave me an approving look.

"Good girl."

 

He climbed into bed with me, leaving the lamp on so we could see each other.  It was a dim, soft light, so I was comfortable with it and it gave him what he wanted, which was to see me.  He had made me promise that I would be vocal, letting him know without hesitation if anything wasn't good, or hurt, or if I was uncomfortable with anything he did.  He didn't want me to be brave, he wanted me to be honest.  

He kicked off his boxers under the covers, I assumed so that I wouldn't feel unnerved by seeing him naked.  I knew he planned to ease me into this, however long it took, and he had told me that if we fell asleep before we actually got around to the sex part, that was okay.  I knew from experience that he was great with extended foreplay so I wasn't worried about anything that took place before...the only thing that scared me was the actual penetration.  My bladder was better, undoubtedly, but it was still painful and my lower stomach was sore.  That soreness was radiating from the inside, right where he would be once _he_ was inside me.  The thought of it made me clench up, so I knew I would probably do the same when the time came.  But I also knew he would walk me through it gently.  And if I needed him to, he would stop.

He waited until I met his gaze and returned his smile before he scooted in close to me, moving down so that we were face to face.  

"Hey baby girl," he whispered once he was settled.  I knew he was waiting for me to touch him first before he put his hands on me, so I pressed a slightly trembling palm against his cheek and stroked his lower lip with my thumb.  

"Hey, daddy."

He smiled so big I could see all his teeth, even in the dim lamplight.  "There's my good little girl," he praised me sweetly as he slipped one hand onto my hip, over the teeshirt.  I didn't flinch or indicate he shouldn't proceed, so he moved closer and pressed his lips to mine.  It was a soft kiss, slow and gentle and with only light pressure, but it was so charged with anticipation and repressed desire that I felt my heart quicken.  He moaned very quietly against my lips and I knew in that moment that this had been very hard for him, but he had conducted himself with the utmost control and respect, never wavering once from the tight rein he had over his neglected needs.

"I love you, Tom."

He drew back from the kiss just slightly, his lips still touching me, then closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to mine.

"I love you too, Anna."

It was the first time I'd said it first.  

 

There was no urgency in anything we did after that.  It was all slow and easy, almost hesitant, unrelentingly tender and every touch, every caress was started with a questioning look, a silent request for permission to continue.  I gave that permission every time he asked for it, either with a smile or a nod or a whispered yes, and he gently led me till I was finally relaxed and calm enough to let him begin touching me more intimately.  The first time he eased his hand between my legs to very lightly touch me, he watched my face carefully, his eyes searching for any sign of distress.  When he was met with no resistance, he very very gently stroked his fingertips over my panties.  The tickle sent a shiver through me and he waited until I relaxed again before he continued.

"Does this feel as good as you remember, darling?" he whispered, running his fingers over me, staying outside my underwear for now.  I sighed, beginning to feel that very small tingling tension in my stomach.  

"Yes, it does...I've missed this."

He dropped his head to kiss me softly.  "I have too, sweetheart.  So very much."

It had been nine weeks since the last time we'd had sex, not counting mutual masturbation over the phone while he was still in Spain, and we both were instantly, acutely aware of just how long that was.  

I thought briefly about what I'd seen that morning.  "Tom...if you want...I can help you go ahead and come now, if you need to."  I felt slightly embarrassed and gave him a look that said so.  "I know this is probably going to take a long time, I don't want you to be uncomfortable while you're waiting on me to catch up."

He shook his head, shushing me, pressing his finger to my lips.  "Don't be silly, sweetheart, I'm fine and we're doing this together.  I don't care if it takes all night, if you're willing to go the distance then I will too." He pressed his lips to mine and continued very lightly touching me between my legs, not going any further than just a gentle stroke with one fingertip.  He shifted his position and moved his hand up to my stomach.

I flinched as soon as he touched me, not so much from discomfort as from the fear of it.  Right where his hand was was where I was the most sore.  He stopped immediately, his hand frozen in place, then he slowly moved it away.

"I'm sorry baby, did that hurt?"

I shook my head, biting my lip.  It honestly hadn't been that bad, but I'd gotten myself so worried that it would, I could feel the pain before it even happened.  "No, I'm okay.  It's okay."

He gave me a look that said he didn't believe me, cocking his eyebrow and turning his head slightly, that look that warned me not to even think about being dishonest with him.  "Anna, do you remember our rule?"

"I'm okay, really.  I promise.  I'm just really touchy there and I _thought_ it was going to be worse than that."

He moved away from me just slightly and my heart sank, thinking he was going to put the brakes on.  But instead he reached over to the bedside table and switched the lamp to the next brighter setting, turning back to me again as he lifted the sheet.  I immediately curled up, pulling my knees up to cover myself.  

"I want you to show me where you don't want to be touched, Anna."  He pulled my hand up and pressed my fingers around his wrist.  "And then I want you to show me _how_ to touch the places that are okay.  Take my hand and show me."

Even though I was wearing his teeshirt, I felt naked without the sheet covering me - and I felt stupid for being this way, because he'd seen me naked so many times during the first two weeks after my surgery, helping me dress, helping me shower, cleaning me up so many times in those first couple of messy days when I first came home.  He'd seen all my bruises, my stitches, the swelling.  But that had been in a non-sexual setting, with him as caregiver and me as patient.  This was different...this was him and me and our bodies, one of which wasn't the way it used to be.  But he was trusting me to be honest with him and I was trusting him to not hurt me.  For him to fulfill his part, I was going to have to do mine.

I moved his hand back to my stomach, where his touch had caused me to flinch.  "I don't really know how any of it is going to feel," I whispered.  

"Then lets find out," he whispered back, his fingers brushing so lightly against my bellybutton that they felt like butterfly wings.  I sucked in my breath and pressed his hand to me, harder than he probably would if it was left to him, but I wanted to see how much I could take.

There was a jolting stab of what I could only describe as deep hot pain; it was like whenever I lifted something heavier than I should have and it pulled my inner incision scars, causing them to burn.  Tom pulled his hand away when he saw the look of discomfort on my face and waited until I opened my eyes again before he said anything.

"I propose I don't touch your belly, how does that sound?"

I nodded my agreement.  He would get no argument from me there.  

As I moved his hand around the rest of me, experimenting to see what was sore and what wasn't, how hard he could press in certain places and how lightly I needed him to touch others, the beginning twinges of arousal that I'd felt earlier started to fire up into little embers again.  He was propped up on his elbow next to me, his chest against my shoulder, letting me slide his hand over my body, stopping anywhere that I felt the need to check for touchiness.  I had been surprised over the course of the last three weeks to discover exactly how many unexpected areas were affected.  Muscles were attached to other muscles and pain radiated between them; stress and tension from constant discomfort caused other, entirely unaffected muscle groups to become sore.  We laughed in disbelief at some of the places we discovered were too touchy to mess with.  But I knew he was going to take exceptional care with me, and we'd already established that I could stand being touched between my legs, although just how strong of a touch I could take remained to be seen.  But I was determined to make this work, and he was determined to work with me.

After we'd mapped my body and made note of a couple of spots that would be off limits, he kissed me lingeringly, pressing his mouth to the side of my neck.  My breasts were a little sore due to the hormonal shift the trauma to my ovaries had caused, but I knew he wanted badly to touch them, so when he laid his hand on my ribcage below my left breast I whispered to him that it was okay.  He sighed and nuzzled into my shoulder.  "But they hurt, baby."

"If we go by that, you'll be sleeping on the couch."

"True."  He moved his hand up and very gently laid it on my breast.  The weight of his hand was uncomfortable but I ignored it, concentrating instead on the heightened sensitivity of my nipple under his palm. The extra hormones had actually done something nice for me there.  I must have moaned, because a moment later I opened my eyes and Tom was looking at me with an amused grin.

I sighed.  "Was that me?"

He shifted closer to me, sliding his hand gently up and down on my breast over the teeshirt.  "I'm pretty sure it was, yes."  He kept his touch light, teasing my nipple with his palm, pulling his hand down far enough to slide his fingertips lightly over it before running his palm up again.  I could feel him watching my face.  "Be vocal, remember sweetheart.  I need to know what's good and what's not."

"That's... _good_..." I stammered, suddenly feeling a gush of wetness between my legs.  It surprised me - I had thought my nervousness and discomfort would make it difficult for me to become aroused enough to even make intercourse possible, but there it was, starting to warm me up just from a single light touch.  "I think I just got wet."

His eyebrows shot up and I couldn't stop myself; a giggle burst out and I slapped my hands over my face in embarrassment.  By the time he pried them away I had tears, real ones, squeezing their way out of my eyes.  

"Wet is good," he laughed.  "Wet is _very_ good."  He planted little kisses across my face in between his soft laughter until I could look at him again.  "Sweetheart, that means your body can accept me.  It's getting ready for me."  His hand moved back to my breast again and he started rubbing gently over my nipple.  While he massaged me, he pressed his lips to my ear and whispered, "Can I lift your shirt?"

I nodded and murmured "Mmm hmm," lifting my hips a little so he could tug the long shirt up enough to slide his hand underneath it.  I flinched a little at the first touch of his fingers on my naked skin, but as soon as he touched my nipple again I felt myself squirming.

"Shhhh," he scolded gently, moving slightly over me and pulling the shirt up further to bare my breasts so that he could dip his head down and kiss the soft underside of one.  He pulled the sheet up at the same time so that it covered my stomach.  "Be still, baby girl, you're supposed to be relaxing and letting me do this."

 _"I am letting you,_ " I argued, still squirming.  His touch was so good, so erotically stimulating, so fucking _delicious_ that I couldn't be still.  His mouth moved slowly from one breast to the other before he began kissing around my nipple, not touching it, just very very lightly pressing his lips to the sensitive skin near it.  It was almost too much to bear and I groaned miserably, reaching up to put my hands on his head in the hopes of urging him to stop teasing me.  He was having none of it, though, and continued his maddening circle, adding soft little licks to the torment.

When he finally touched his lips to my nipple, a hot jolt of electrically charged pleasure seared its way straight down through my belly to my crotch.  My whole body tensed, responding to the stimulation as he took it into his mouth and sucked it, very gently at first, touching and teasing with his warm tongue, then increasing the suction till I started making sounds I'd never made before.  My reaction encouraged him and he sucked harder, not hard enough to be uncomfortable, but with that perfect amount of pressure that he knew made my pussy throb.  And just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore because it just felt too damn good, he let it pop out of his mouth and moved to the other nipple to subject it to the same infuriatingly delightful torture.

 _"Oh my god Tom,"_ was all I could say, my voice raspy and breathless.  It trailed off to another moan and he shushed me again.

"Enjoy it, baby girl...you need to be completely ready for me.  I plan to make sure you are."

 

 

_To be continued..._

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

 

 

His head suddenly popped up.

"Did you take your Tylenol?"

I looked down at him where he was perched over my breasts and laughed.  "You mean my pre-sex painkiller?  No...this was sort of spur of the moment."

"Maybe you should."  His brow furrowed into that worried, lopsided line across his forehead.  "Would you like me to go get it for you?"

I groaned.  I didn't want him to stop what he was doing, but I knew this was going to worry him until I said yes.  Might as well say it now and get it out of the way.

"Would you?  Please?"

He smiled, happy to be asked to do something.  It had become obvious that he thrived the most when I needed him and wilted a little when I turned down his assistance in my quest to be completely self sufficient again.  But there was no harm in letting him do things for me, even if I was capable of doing them myself; it was a hard lesson for me to accept, since it just wasn't in my nature to be coddled without feeling uncomfortable, but the happiness it obviously brought to him was worth it.  

"I'll be right back, sweetheart."

He gave my nipple a teasing lick as he moved away and scooted out of the bed.  I groaned again, half convinced that he was doing this just to torture me and was probably grinning to himself. Though I had to admit, putting on the brakes right at that moment probably hadn't been a bad idea...my stomach had started to tense from the arousal his mouth was waking in me and there was a dull ache starting that had nothing to do with feeling good.  

While he was rummaging in the bathroom cabinet and getting me a glass of water I let my hand wander down to my undies, curious to see if that gush I'd felt was actually what I thought it was and not just a figment of my hopeful imagination - yep, definitely aroused, my fingers came away slippery and wet, soaked right through my panties.

_Thomas William Hiddleston, you are good._

"Here you are sweetheart, just what the doctor ordered."  He knelt on the edge of the bed and helped me sit up, smoothing my shirt down to cover me again.  I put my hand out but he shook his head and brought his hand up to my mouth, tapping my lower lip with his finger.  "Open up darling."  When I opened my mouth, he pressed two capsules onto my tongue, letting his finger slide sensually over the top of my lower teeth as he removed it and raised the glass to my lips.  "Drink..."  He tipped the glass up.  "And swallow."

I would have laughed at his little verbal instruction manual but I didn't want to choke on the pills.

"Good girl."  He set the glass on the bedside table and turned back to me.  "Now...where were we?"

I snuggled back down into the bed and raised my hand to him, which he took and pressed to his lips.  "We were about to make love, I think."

He gave me a disapproving look and narrowed his eyes at me.  "Oh no, sweetheart - we've been making love since the moment we started up the stairs.  All this..."  He moved his hand down over me, barely touching me, then brought it back up to my face.  "All this has been lovemaking."  He settled in under the covers with me and pushed his body up against me, his long legs stretched out with mine, his ridged stomach against my hip, his solid chest against my shoulder, his softly bristly chin nudging sweetly into my neck.  "Making love isn't about me putting my cock in your pussy," he whispered against my ear.  "We can make love without having sex.  Sex is what happens after."

I closed my eyes.

_Sex is what happens after._

The profound truth of that simple statement woke me, literally, from the long sleep I'd been in since the first time Eric had forced himself on me under the pretense of loving me.  He'd always shamed me into giving up my resistance of his advances by calling it lovemaking, as if putting such a sweet word on it made it somehow better, entitling him to do it and making me the bad guy for not wanting it.  How could something with such a sweet name be bad?  That was the dark bruise he had put on my psyche.  I had come to associate that term only with the actual act, and not with anything before or after it, because what came before and after with Eric was usually painful and humiliating and unpleasant.  It had nothing to do with love and everything to do with his complete and unchallenged ownership of my body, my life, and me.

And then there was Tom, challenging everything, putting his own definitions on things, better definitions.  Ones that didn't make me cringe.  

"You're crying, Anna," he said so quietly that I barely heard him.  I nodded, not even considering denying it.  He touched my cheek with his fingertip where the tear was lingering and brushed it away.  "There, now you're not."  I could feel his smile through my closed eyelids, knowing it would be there even though I couldn't see it.  He wasn't asking what my tears were about; he already knew.

Sliding one arm under me, he moved me gently till I was completely on my back and reached down to pull my shirt up, just far enough to uncover my panties.  I lay still and let him, watching his face as he did so. He was so beautiful it made my heart ache.  Such a kindhearted man, so sweet and caring and generous with his love, and it all showed in his face, in the way he looked at me, the way he smiled at me, the way his eyebrow quirked up when he gave me that certain look that said _you, you are special to me._  His face right at that moment betrayed a deep and rising desire, but there was a purity to it, a soft edged tempering of the lust that was kept carefully under control, a look that said he wanted me but would deny himself anything necessary to keep me safe.  

_"I want to be your wife, Tom,"_ I heard myself whisper.  

He turned and looked at me, his hands stopping on my thighs where he had been gently stroking to relax me.  There was a moment where neither of us breathed, and then I heard him exhale, slowly, through the gradual smile that changed his face so completely from intense concentration to relieved joy.

"Good," he whispered back.  It was all he said, and it was enough.

 

His hands rubbed gently up and down my legs, putting me at ease, taking his time, rushing nothing.  He lifted one leg and pressed his lips to my calf while his long fingers wrapped completely around my ankle and his other hand stroked lovingly along my inner thigh, sending a shiver up my body while he kissed the sensitive spot behind my knee.  I giggled, feeling funny with my leg up in the air, till he grinned at me and very gently eased it over his head and ducked in between my knees, moving his whole body into the space between my legs.  I gave him a surprised look and he broke into a little laugh, keeping his eyes on mine as he tentatively pressed his hand against my pussy.  Even with my underwear still on, his touch was searingly hot and the reaction in my body was immediate.  My hips pushed up, pushing me into his hand.

"Is this okay, sweetheart?"

I struggled to form the simple word I needed to answer him; he rubbed his palm against the crotch of my panties as he leaned forward to press a featherlight kiss to my bellybutton, chuckling quietly at how obviously overwhelmed I was.  He took pity on me and raised his head to look at me, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"I excuse you from having to give verbal answers when a nod or shake of the head will suffice," he said with a wide grin, "since you seem to be having trouble with it."

A warm flush of embarrassment crept up my chest to my ears and I nodded my understanding and agreement, thankful that the lighting was dim enough that he couldn't see me blush.  His hand pressed a little harder, testing me, and when I didn't protest or show any sign of distress he moved out from between my legs and slipped his fingers under the sides of my panties.

"May I remove these, baby?"

I was thankful he had excused me from having to speak, because at that moment if I had tried, my voice would have left my throat as a humiliating squeak.  He was already tugging my panties down, just a tiny bit, knowing I was going to say yes but waiting to give me time to.  I nodded and pressed my hands over my face, covering my eyes.

"Nooo darling, I won't allow that - I'll bend a few of my rules but that isn't one of them."  He reached up and grasped my elbow gently.  "Uncover your face, Anna.  I need to see your eyes."

I obeyed and he gave me his _aren't you a good girl_ smile, the one I seemed to be living for now.  His hand went back to my panties and he pulled them down, very slowly, his eyes no longer on my face but watching hungrily as the silk was peeled away to reveal me inch by inch.  "Ohhh baby, you are so fucking beautiful," he groaned breathlessly.  "It's been far too long since I saw this sweet little puss in the right context."  He bent over and kissed me on the pubic bone, just above my clit, letting his chin bump me not once but twice before he nuzzled his face into me.  It was pure heaven and absolute torture and a million other things in between the two, and as his tongue licked softly over the outside of my folds before he opened them gently with his fingers to explore inside, I knew with complete certainty that this was what I wanted.  He wasn't talking me into anything, _I wanted this._ I wanted him and I wanted our life together and I wanted that tongue and those fingers and that incredible cock inside me forever and I wanted all of it now.

_"Ohh god please Tom...please take me...I...I want you."_

He must have known he was going to have to be the voice of reason whether he wanted the job or not; a deep groan rumbled in his throat and he pressed down on my thighs, pulling his face away from me long enough to get my attention.  "No rushing, sweet girl...slow and easy, remember?"  He lowered his face between my legs again and pressed his mouth over my clit, his tongue massaging it, coaxing me into complete arousal.  A long finger very gently nudged in between my folds and pushed lightly, teasingly against my opening.  "Shall we see if you're soft yet?"

I nodded, chewing a raw spot into my bottom lip as he slowly slipped his finger in, moving it around very gently, testing me for discomfort.  "You're very soft and wet, sweetheart.  You're ready."  He curled his finger a bit and looked up at me again.  "Any pain?"  When I shook my head no, he slipped his finger out and moved his hand down to my bottom.  "May I, sweetie?" he asked politely as he pressed that same finger lightly against my back opening.  I murmured a quiet _yes_ and he quickly pushed it in, causing me to suck in my breath in surprise even though I knew it was coming.  I never minded when he did this, and in the right mood I often loved it.  This time I knew he was checking me for soreness, so I relaxed and he slowly pulled it back out.  "No pain?" he asked, watching my face.  

"No, no pain."

He smiled.  "Good.  I was noticing how cute your little ass looked this morning in your pajamas and I've been dying to do that all day.  So thank you, that one was for me on the pretense of concern."  I laughed as he moved up to kiss me on the lips.  "However, when I'm inside you I'll be pressing against that part from inside, so I did need to know if it was going to hurt you."  He kissed me softly again and lowered himself onto me, holding most of his weight on his forearms, gauging how much of him pressing down on me I could take.  He was very heavy and I gasped a little when his stomach came down against mine.  "Tell me when it's too much," he murmured against my throat, where he was kissing his way down in a maddeningly slow pattern of alternating kisses, licks, kisses, licks...I sighed and raised my arms around his neck, hugging him tight, forcing him to stop his downward descent.  He raised his head and looked me in the eyes, understanding what I wanted.

"Are you ready for me, sweetheart?"

I stared back at him for a long moment, then whispered,  _"Yes."_

He smiled so sweetly that my heart felt tight and warm.  I absolutely was ready for him, and more than that, I wanted him.  No more fear, no more hesitation.  He lifted himself off me and moved to the edge of the bed, sitting with his back to me as he reached over to open the drawer on the bedside table.

I sat up behind him and draped my arm over his shoulder, stroking his chest with my head against the back of his neck.  I still had his teeshirt on, but he'd been naked since he had first joined me in the bed, and for the first time since we'd come upstairs I looked down at his cock.  It was half erect, swollen but not completely engorged yet, and I knew he'd been putting a lot of effort into keeping himself under control.  I'd seen him go fullblown hard just from watching me push a shopping cart fully clothed in the grocery store - so for him to be only partly stiff now was a true testament to how committed he was to going slow and easy.

I meant to say something about it, but what came out was "I think my Tylenol just kicked in."

He looked back at me over his shoulder and started to laugh, quietly at first, then more loudly, till finally he was rocking side to side holding onto my arms around his neck so that I rocked with him.  We both knew the sudden silly mood was pure stress relief and that we needed it, so neither of us tried to rein it in till it died down on its own.  When it did, he reached back into the drawer and pulled out the little box of condoms.

"Want to help me put this on?"

I reached over his shoulder and took it from his hand, settling down next to him with my legs tucked under me.  "I don't know how skilled I'll be, I've never really done this."  He turned to face me and I asked him what I needed to do.

"Well, first I need to be hard..."  His eyes flicked down to my chest and he reached out to tug at the bottom of the teeshirt with a pleading look.  "Can we take this off, sweetheart?  Please?"

I hesitated for just a moment, then made the decision to stop being ridiculous and vain and selfish.  He'd seen everything I was hiding under that shirt and I'd never once in three weeks of him taking care of me seen him show even the slightest bit of disgust.  Concern and worry and sincere interest, yes, but never distaste, never a single moment when he looked away because he couldn't stand what he was seeing.  

I got up on my knees and pulled the shirt off over my head, dropping it on the bed next to him.  His eyes came straight up to mine - not to my chest, not to the rest of my now completely naked body - _to my eyes,_ and they stayed there until the slow smile that was spreading across his beautiful face had completely taken over his mouth and he whispered, _"Thank you baby girl."_

Everything changed, then.  He let his eyes fall to my breasts and then lower, and they took on that dreamy, languorous look that I had long ago come to associate with an impending mauling.  He didn't even touch me, but his half erection was suddenly a full one and we spent a couple of fumbling minutes trying to put his condom on, both our hands shaking with quickly rising desire.  Once it was properly installed - more through his skill than mine, although he pretended to allow me to assist - he got up on his knees on the bed and moved me back over to the spot we had vacated earlier, laying me gently down on my back and scooting to sit beside me.  

"You're so beautiful, Anna," he said quietly, letting his eyes roam appreciatively over me for a minute before he stretched out next to me to lay on his side, his face near mine.  "Everything about you is so lovely..." His hand reached up to touch my face.  "...and womanly..."  - sliding down to cup my breast -  "...and perfect."  - moving down to my stomach to very lightly brush his fingertips across my bruises.  I flinched a bit, but he didn't take his hand away this time, just kept sliding it over me, his broad palm warming my skin everywhere it touched.  Eventually it came back up to my breasts and he played with my nipples a bit, doing his best to make me moan.  It didn't take long.

Thanks to everything we'd already done, once we both knew it was time we were able to just move right into it.  He already knew how gently he had to touch me in certain places and how rough he could handle me in others, how much of his weight I could take, which bits made me flinch and which were more highly sensitive now due to my off-kilter hormones, and he very carefully remembered every bit of it as he kissed and caressed me into aching arousal before finally moving his body over mine and nudging my legs apart gently.

I gripped his shoulders tightly, tensing up, and he stopped to search my face for anything that would tell him this wasn't a good idea.  "Anna?"

His simple question, the absolute proof that he wouldn't go an inch further if I said no, gave me the courage I needed to make my final decision.  I nodded, looking straight into his eyes, then pulled his head down to my face so I could kiss him.  He put his forehead to mine and closed his eyes.  "This is the part I'm afraid of," I whispered against his lips.

"Me too," he said quietly.

He shifted between my legs and reached down to stroke me, ensuring that I was wet enough and relaxed enough to accept him, then positioned himself at my opening and nudged in very slowly, very gently, till I felt myself stretching around him.  It had been a long time since he'd been inside me so I was tight and there was resistance at first, but after a little bit of gentle rocking, he slid in halfway and stopped to check on me.  I knew my eyes were wide and slightly panicked when I looked up at him, but he was smiling and kissed me slowly, all over my face, covering my cheeks with little pecks and his warm breath until I sighed and started returning his kisses.  He slipped his hands down behind my knees and pulled my legs up just enough so that I could press them into his sides.

"If you need to stop and can't speak, give me a nudge with your knees," he ordered, his voice soft but still with an air of authority that warned me not to disobey him.  "Are you ready, sweetheart?"  I promptly tipped my hips up in an unspoken confirmation, urging him to continue.  He grinned, a smile that bordered provocatively on wicked, and dipped his head down to nuzzle at my neck as he began slowly thrusting into me.

_"Ohh godddd"_ I groaned, holding tight to his shoulders, trying not to move as he pushed completely in.  The pressure was uncomfortable at first, particularly once he was fully inside me, and there was a harsh burning that almost felt like my first time, but I made a conscious effort to remain relaxed and it eased off after the third or fourth gentle thrust.  He was breathing hard against my neck but his breaths were even and steady, letting me know that he was completely in control.  His whole body was taut against me so I knew it was a struggle for him; but I also knew he would never, never allow himself to lose that control, no matter what.  I was completely safe with him, and my confidence in him made me brave.

"That feels so good, Tom," I murmured against his forehead as he nuzzled my cheek.  He moaned and quickened the pace just a little, encouraged by my words; I knew he loved it when I talked to him while he made love to me, but I never did it much, too shy and timid to do much more than just lay beneath him responding to his touch.  He liked that too, but when I whispered to him, I could always feel his arousal become more intense, less tamed, more primal.  I didn't think that was what we needed right now, but I couldn't stop myself from telling him how good he felt inside me.

"Is everything okay?" he whispered back, still moving on top of me, one hand under my shoulder and the other gliding over me, stopping every now and then to caress my breast or rub my nipple to keep my arousal piqued.  "Any pain?  Need me to stop, slow down, shift something?"  I shook my head and took his face in my hands, making him look me in the eyes.  There was a dark desire there, one that I'd seen so many times in Spain, but the difference between his eyes then and now was shocking.  When I knew him in Spain, his eyes were icy blue, hot and cold at the same time, always smoldering with something untamed and dangerous.  Now they were a soft blue green, kind and full of love, looking at me like they were the eyes of a different person, one who cared about nothing but me.  I smiled into those eyes, assuring him that everything was more than okay.

 

He carried us both through it with a slow, easy, unrushed tenderness, stopping often to make sure I was alright, watching my face carefully, paying attention to my body for signals of distress.  There were a few moments of discomfort, but he stopped and soothed me through them, whispering to me sweetly, always reiterating that I had complete control and all I had to do was say stop.  He brought me to the brink of orgasm several times but I kept tensing up, afraid to let go, scared the pressure of my uterus contracting would break something - an irrational fear, but mostly valid in theory, since the hard clenching of my muscles in climax would tense up everything I had in there.  Most of it was still very very sore, and just the thought of _any_ of it clenching was enough to keep me from relaxing enough to allow it to happen.

Tom knew I was holding back; I kept tipping my hips down, pulling away from him when my arousal became too intense, too close...he was watching me closely and nothing escaped his notice.  He allowed it, backing off when I pulled away, but he was ready himself and I knew he wanted me to finish with him.  He reached down between us to stroke my clit and I whimpered, trying to close my legs enough to stop his fingers, but he was between them and I ended up squeezing his hips with my knees.

_If you need to stop and can't speak, give me a nudge with your knees._

He stopped immediately, pulling his hand away and stilling his hips, going completely motionless as he pulled his head up to look me in the face.

"Are you alright Anna?"

His voice had an edge of worry and his eyes were clouded with concern as he searched my face for an indication of what was wrong.  I realized my mistake immediately and started shaking my head, anxious to soothe his worry, assuring him that I was okay, he hadn't hurt me.  His expression relaxed and he cocked his eyebrow at me.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked sweetly, nudging his nose against mine.  "Do you not want to come?"

As always, his powers of perception where I was concerned amazed me and I shook my head again, clenching my eyes shut tightly.

"Why not, sweetheart?  I'll do it gently, I promise."  Still nuzzling my nose, buttering me up in that failproof way of his.  "Please come with me?"

I turned my head, determined to hold onto my resolve in the face of his charm and persuasive skills.

"I don't want to, Tom...I'm...I'm really afraid to."  I looked back at him again and he was listening carefully.  "I know nothing bad will happen but I'm really scared something will tear open, one of my incisions will pop or something and...oh god.  This is stupid, I know."  I was whining and I sounded silly even to myself.

He was smiling, but in a distinctly empathetic way, not mocking me, just acknowledging my own observation as being accurate without adding his own opinion.

"Are you sure, darling?  Because you know there's nothing I would love more than to help you find your sweet release...and you're so close..."  He emphasized his point by nudging his hips forward just slightly, letting the shaft of his cock rub alluringly into my swollen clit, a last ditch attempt to convince me without being forceful.  It felt wonderful, but I stuck to my guns and shook my head, fully determined to not be swayed.

"I'm sure.  I'm sorry...I'm just really freaked out about it."  I looked him straight in the eyes and added, "I don't want to."

That was all he needed to hear.  He didn't say another word about it, just nodded and lowered his head to resume warmly kissing along my jawline as he shifted his hips and began slowly thrusting into me again.

"Is it okay if I come now darling?" he whispered against my throat.  I could hear his resolve crumbling, his body beginning to demand release.  I tried to clench up on him a bit to help him along, but I was getting sore and he was so big, so fully engorged inside me, that there was little I could actually do.  I kissed his neck as he moved further up on me, positioning himself for the deeper thrusts that would carry him over the edge.

"Go ahead baby," I encouraged him.  I slipped my hands down to his hips and reached around to grip his cheeks, squeezing hard like I knew he loved, bringing a deep groan from his throat and quickening his pace.  

_"Ohh baby girl...it's so good to be inside you again...soooo good..."_

I felt emboldened by his unabashed moaning and the fact that I wasn't distracted by an impending climax of my own; it gave me the freedom to pay attention to him, to help him along, and I whispered "Come for me sweetie," into his ear as I squeezed his ass harder, kneading his firm cheeks with my fingers.  His head dropped down to my shoulder and I felt his breathing quicken, shifting to panting gasps before he shuddered and tensed, arching his back as he finally released.  Even in the throes of his climax he kept himself under control, holding himself back from thrusting too hard, respecting my body's new inability to handle what we'd once been used to.  

He collapsed beside me, keeping his weight off me as he caught his breath, pulling me over with him so that we were laying on our sides, face to face.  His arms circled my back and pulled me close, his lips finding my forehead to plant kisses and murmur soft words against my skin, and when his trembling had stilled he looked at me with so much love in his eyes that all I could do was stare at him in disbelief.

We smiled at each other, allowing no words to betray our thoughts.  We didn't need them.  Words wouldn't have been good enough, anyway.

 

 

_To be continued..._

 


	21. Chapter 21

 

 

 

"Did you mean it, Anna?"

I looked up from my Kindle and saw him sitting there, staring at me with what appeared to be a half confused, half hopeful look on his face.  He was the master of combination expressions, but this one seemed a little bit out of his control.

"Did I mean what?  Of course you can have the toast, I'm done."  I put my device down and picked up our dishes, carrying them to the sink as he watched me.  He chuckled a little.

"Was it heat of the moment?  If it was, I understand...if that's the case then tell me now, because if you say it wasn't then I swear to god that I'm going to hold you to it."

"Wait - this isn't about the toast, is it.  Because, you know, I can make more.  What are you - ?"  I left my sentence unfinished and turned to look at him.  He had gotten up from the table and was standing behind me.

"I will get down on my knees right now and propose marriage and - "

"Knee."

He stopped and cocked his head to the side, like a dog when you pretend to throw his stick and he knows you didn't.

"What?"

"Knee.  Down on one knee, not both.  It's supposed to be...one...knee."  I put my cup in the sink and groaned inwardly.  "Shit, this isn't about toast."

He was usually much quicker on the uptake than this, but I could tell he was genuinely confused.  I, however, had already had my flashback to the previous night and knew exactly what he was talking about.

_I want to be your wife, Tom._

He was calling me out.

 _Had_ it been heat of the moment?

I realized I hadn't really thought about it since it happened...if I hadn't meant it, if it had just been an emotional reaction to the way he was treating me, I would be obsessing over it, hoping he had forgotten about it.  But I felt at ease with it, I didn't regret saying it.  The only one of us showing any distress over it was...him.

He stepped up close behind me and slipped his arms around my waist, pressing himself up against my back.  His face came down to nuzzle into my shoulder as he rocked us slowly back and forth.  "It's okay if it was something you didn't mean to say," he whispered against my neck.  I squirmed out of his arms and turned to give him a withering look.

"Why are you trying to give me an out?" I demanded, tossing the spoon I was holding into the sink.  It made a plopping noise and the water splashed out, making a wet mark across the front of Tom's teeshirt. If he looked confused before, he was completely unsaveable now.  "That's twice you've said it's okay if I didn't mean it.  What the hell?  Do you _want_ me not to have meant it?"

"What?"  His face was so scrunched up with utter disorientation that I almost laughed.  He looked like he didn't even know what house he was in. "No, no no!  I want you to mean it, I just don't want to get all excited about it if you didn't - I guess I'm just...shit, I'm fucking this up aren't I?" He raked his hand through his hair and gave me a mournful look.  "I hope to god you meant it, Anna.  I guess I'm just not letting myself believe you really did. It's..."  He looked around the room as if the words he needed were floating around somewhere, drifting just beyond his reach. "It's just too good of a thing for me to assume."

"And you think I could say something like that without actually meaning it?  Knowing how much it means to _you,_ you honestly think I would just pop off something like that?"

His mouth was hanging open and his eyes were wide.  I could see through his face exactly what he was thinking - _how the fuck did this go so sideways so fast?_

I realized I was stomping around the little kitchen throwing things into the sink and decided this was no good, I shouldn't be doing this, he didn't deserve it and it was just a misunderstanding.  I knew what he meant but I was purposefully picking his words apart.  I knew I was doing it, but I didn't know why.

"I'm going upstairs," I finally said.  "Don't come up yet.  Go take your shower, calm down, give me a little while, then come up if you want."

He stared after me as I left.  I didn't look back at him because I knew there would be tears, and I didn't want to see them.

 

He did as he was told, waiting a while before he came up.  I heard the shower running down the hall in the guestroom and felt guilty about making him feel he had to use that one - all his things were in _this_ bathroom.  He was either scared of me or being very very respectful of my mood.

When he finally came in, he tiptoed very quietly to the dresser to get something from the top drawer, the one I'd given him for his clothes that didn't need hanging.  He turned and looked at me, noticing I was awake, and gave me a quick smile as he came to the bed and knelt down beside it.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Do you feel like talking a bit?  Not about...that."  He tipped his head toward the door, indicating our conversation in the kitchen.  

"Okay.  About what then."

"About what's wrong."  His eyes darted down to my stomach, where I had my arms wrapped tightly around myself.  He waited until I nodded, then his expression shifted from _I'm concerned for my own safety here_ to _now I'm worried about you._ I noticed then that he had one of those medical booklets in his hand, the ones they give you at the doctor's office to explain whatever condition you have. 

"The nurse at the clinic gave me this," he said, almost shyly, sliding the little pamphlet across the bed toward me.  "It says on page three to expect mood swings and irrational behavior due to the hormonal shift your body is experiencing."  He pulled his hand back like he expected to be bitten if he got too close.  

"Did you memorize the entire book?"

He nodded.  Of course he did, why would I suspect anything else?  My efficient, passionate, totally involved man.  If I hadn't been so irritated I'd have been impressed with his dedication.  "What else does it say?"

He cleared his throat.  "It says your cycle will almost certainly be thrown into chaos and your first post-procedure period will be worse than your normal ones, and it could come at any time because your cycle has been reset."

"So you're telling me I'm having PMS."

He nodded again.

"And you're telling me this from your knees next to the bed and not from inside a steel shark cage."

He actually looked at me like _why didn't I think of that??_

I picked up the booklet and fiddled with it absently.  "I know...you're right, completely right.  I can tell that's what this is.  It's like my regular stuff, only jacked up and quadrupled."

He leaned down on his elbows on the side of the bed, obviously feeling a little safer now since I'd started talking.  "It also says that resumption of sexual activity can sometimes cause a further shift in your cycle due to the reintroduction of testosterone into your system, but I don't think that would apply to us since we used a condom."  He shrugged.  "I don't know though.  It also says there are other hormones that your own body starts making again once you start having sex.  So maybe that's...doing something...too."

I covered my face with the booklet and started to laugh.  I knew he wasn't going to understand what was so funny, because at that moment he was so distraught he looked like he was on the verge of tears.  He didn't say anything, just sat there watching me.

"I'm sorry, Tom...I'm really sorry, this must suck for you so bad.  Stuck in a house with a female having - _hormonal shifts_ all the hell over you."  

He gave me a tentative smile.  "I grew up with two sisters and I honestly don't think anyone could have been worse than them.  They got all their devil cycles at the same time and I was their whipping boy."

"You must be having traumatic flashbacks then."

He put his hand out, laying it palm-up on the bed next to my leg.  He wiggled his fingers, his sign that he wanted me to hold his hand; he was grinning a sweet little smile with his head laid on the mattress at the edge of the bed.  He looked so cute.  I gave in and put my hand in his. 

"It's okay, sweetheart.  I knew to expect all this."

I gave his fingers a squeeze, maybe harder than I needed to.  "What I said last night, by the way - I meant it."

His face broke into an immediate smile, wide and happy and maybe more than just a little bit relieved.

"I'm guessing I shouldn't propose right now.  Plus I've got both knees on the floor, from what I understand that's not proper procedure."

I tried not to laugh, I really did, but he was serious and so sappily sincere that I couldn't help it.  I tossed the booklet to the foot of the bed and flopped back onto the pillows, giggling.  "Oh god, Tom.  I'm sorry I'm bitchy.  You don't deserve it."

He was still holding my hand and pulled it to his lips to kiss my fingertips.  "Can I come up there with you?"

"Do you mean is it safe?"

He nodded, looking a bit unsure.  I patted the mattress next to me and scooted over a bit.  He immediately climbed up and curled himself around me, laying his arm gently over my stomach, holding it off slightly for a moment until he saw that I hadn't winced at his touch.  "How's your belly today, darling?"

"Seems okay."  The weight of his arm did hurt a bit, but it wasn't that stinging, pulling burn that set my teeth on edge and ignited my entire nervous system.  It was just a dull sort of pinching ache, so I sucked it up in the interest of letting him touch me.

"Good."  He nuzzled his nose into the side of my face, his warm lips brushing against my skin, his hips doing that slow gentle thrust thing that guys do without thinking when they spoon up to you.  I felt a little twinge below my bellybutton; it was nice to know my body still reacted to him so quickly and easily, but I really didn't want this kind of reaction at the moment.  I wasn't in the mood and I didn't want to have to tell him no, not after how kind and sweet he'd been to me the night before.  But he was sighing contentedly and pushing himself in closer to me, sliding his leg over mine, pressing his pelvis against my hip, and it was obvious this was going to go south with great speed.

"Tom...Tom, please...can we not...?"

He wasn't paying attention, already lost in the preliminary fog that comes with the early stages of arousal.  I could feel it against my hip, half hard and beginning to radiate heat.  Maybe if I just lay still and let him push against me, he would be content to pleasure himself...but he blew that possibility out of the water by sliding his hand up to my breast and giving it a squeeze, letting me know that he intended for me to participate.

I repeated myself, louder this time to get his attention.  "Tom, please..."

"Hmm?"  His hand was stroking my breast now, squeezing gently, his fingertips grazing my nipple through my shirt.  It was starting to feel good, too good, and I knew if I didn't stop him now it would be too late. That little twinge below my bellybutton was spreading lower and blossoming into a deeper sensation of warmth.  I put my hand over his to stop him and he pressed his mouth to my ear, breathing warmly against it.  "Sweetheart, do you think we could..."

He moved his hand from my breast and slid it down my body, letting it stop at the waistband of my pants.  They were the stretchy kind of yoga pants that nobody really wears for yoga, but they were soft and comfortable on my bruised stomach so I had discovered a newfound respect for them.  The only drawback was that they were easy for Tom to get his hand into.

"...do you think we could make love?"

His voice was so soft against my ear, his request followed by a little sigh while his fingers played with the waist of my pants, his warm body pushing up gently against me - I remembered what he'd told me, that making love was all kinds of things, not just sex, and suddenly it didn't seem like such a bad way to spend my morning.  I turned over on my side to face him and started nuzzling him back.

"We can.  But - "

He pulled his head back so he could look at me, waiting for me to finish my sentence.  "But what, sweetheart?"  He looked hopeful and I hated to say it, but he'd made me promise I would always tell him if I didn't want to do something, regardless of how badly I knew he might want to.  

"Can we just...you know...make love?"

His face relaxed into a sweet smile and he nodded.  "Of course, darling.  You don't feel like having sex?"

I shook my head, trying not to meet his eyes.  He brought his hand up to my face and stroked his thumb across my cheekbone.  "Then we won't. There are so many other things we can do in this bed...but I do owe you a couple of orgasms.  Would you like to try?"

I absolutely did _not_ want to try that - I was still mortified at the idea, and my aversion to it hadn't lessened any since the previous night, in fact if anything it was worse.  I shook my head again forcefully.  I knew he would understand, since he had come into the bathroom to check on me while I was sitting there crying, trying to pee, my bruised and swollen bladder irritated by our intercourse.

"Okay, baby," he reassured me, running his hands up and down my back gently.  "Not ready yet, I understand."  He moved his face close to my ear again and whispered seductively, "But don't think I'm going to forget."

 

We spent the morning together on the bed, kissing and touching and caressing, whispering sweet words and letting everything just _linger,_ our breath on each other's faces, our fingers on each other's skin, our mouths pressing and licking and sucking everywhere we could reach with our clothes on.  We moved slowly, not rushing anything, until Tom's hands suddenly started to move with a little more urgency, his kisses started to press just a little deeper into my skin.  I could sense that he was ready for something more serious than the gentle caresses and soft touches we'd been enjoying.  I reached down between us and wrestled the button on his jeans open, sliding the zipper down to slip my hand inside.  He was already fully hard and he groaned painfully when I touched him.

I looked up at his face.  "Does it hurt?"

He smiled a little.  "No, not really.  But it is uncomfortable."  I eased it out of his jeans and giggled a little when it grew in my hand, stiffening even more once it was freed of its confines.  

"Cocks are weird."

"And vaginas aren't?"

"What's weird about a vagina?"

He broke into an amused grin and stammered a little, laughing.  "It's a hole, Anna - this strangely soft, stretchy hole that molds itself to whatever goes into it, if you put a pencil in it it'll hug it the same as if you put a cucumber in it.  I mean if that's not black magic I don't know what is. And it's so tiny and tight and yet _this_ \- "  he pointed to his cock " - _this_ fits in it."  He gave me his goofiest eyebrows-up look.  "This shouldn't fit, Anna.  It's just not normal."

I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe.  "Pencils and cucumbers?  What the hell Hiddleston, you freak."

He took advantage of my giggling fit to tickle me, gently digging his fingers into my ribs just below my armpits, turning me over onto my back once I'd lost control.  He moved himself over me and put his mouth to mine, pressing his tongue against my lips to stop my laughing.  I groaned, knowing exactly what he was doing.

"Tom, no.  Stop, I mean it."

He pulled his head up and looked at me.  "I can't change your mind?"

"No."

He sighed deeply, hanging his head so that his forehead rested against my chin.  "Okay, baby.  I'm sorry...I wanted to see if maybe you felt differently now."  He rolled over off me onto his back and his hand went down to the front of his pants, reflexively gripping himself as he closed his eyes.  I rolled over with him, snuggling up against his chest, letting my hand go down to rest on top of his.

"I'll help you, babe," I whispered against his shoulder.  The smile came back to his face as I laced my fingers through his and helped him grip his cock tighter.  "Just tell me what you want."

"I want..."  His voice was suddenly strained, whispery and breathless as our fingers tightened just a bit more.  He turned his face to me and let his lips graze my forehead.   _"I want to be inside you...so deep inside you..."_

We began stroking, our hands working together, moving slowly up and down the shaft of his cock as his whispers continued.   _"I want to feel your heat...your softness...your quivering thighs and your tensing muscles as I push into you..."_

Our hands gripped tighter, sliding a little faster.

_"I want to hear your sighs..."_

His cock twitched.

_"...and feel your belly tighten..."_

His body tensed and he groaned deep in his throat.

"Anna...baby...please..."

"Tell me what you want, Tom."

"Will you...will you do something special for me?"

"You know I will."  I kissed his chin.  "Ask it."

His eyes were closed tightly and he was breathing hard, trying to keep himself under control.

"Would you...kneel over me...and put your pussy over my mouth?"

I hesitated for a moment - he'd never asked me to do this before, but it wasn't anything I wasn't willing to try.  "Of course, baby.  I'll do that for you."  I moved away from him just enough to slip out of my pants and underwear while he watched.  He put his hand on my back to guide me as I got up onto my knees next to him.  "Which way do you want me facing?" I asked, noticing how hungrily his eyes stared at my crotch.

"Face the other way.  You can lay your head on my stomach, you won't strain your belly that way."

I nodded my understanding.  He put his hands on my hips to help me as I moved over him, straddling his chest on my knees; I lowered my chest to his abdomen and laid my head on his stomach, letting him ease my knees out from under me so that I lay down flush on him.  A hot shiver bolted through me when I felt his warm mouth press against my pussy and begin sucking.

 _His mouth_.  In my eagerness to give him what he wanted, I hadn't considered the fact that I didn't specify what he could or couldn't do with his mouth while it was in close proximity to my nethers.  But I didn't even think about protesting.  There wasn't a single accusatory thought in my head, not one suspicion that this had been planned - I knew it hadn't.  It just happened.  And now that it was happening, I couldn't find any will to stop it.  I had, after all, agreed to it willingly and without hesitation.

His hand moved down over my back to grip himself and he began stroking his cock again while his mouth sucked at me.  He avoided my clit, but his soft warm tongue moved all around it, reminding me of just how good it would feel if I would allow him to make me come...but despite the heated tension in my stomach, my resolve held, and I lay still while he stroked himself to completion.  It didn't take him long and I felt a tingle of excitement when he came, his stomach tensing up under my cheek, his chest heaving beneath my stomach.  He groaned heavily and kept licking at my folds, slipping his tongue in between them to push into me, making my belly tighten with an almost unbearable desire to just let go.

"Oh fuuuck baby," he groaned from between my legs.  "That was so good...and you're so wet..."  His other hand had been resting on my bottom and he patted me, gripping my hip gently as I raised up off him and got onto my knees to move aside.  I found that my thighs were trembling and he ran his hand up and down them slowly, giving me that pleading look again, hoping that I would let him finish me.  But he didn't say anything, respecting my decision by not asking again.

I smiled at him and he grinned back.

"Thank you, baby girl."  He let his fingers trail slowly down between my thighs to just barely skim over my clit, brushing downward over my folds.  Propping himself up on one elbow, he withdrew his hand and brought his fingers to his mouth.  "You're so fucking delicious, Anna.  That was like dessert."  He slipped a finger sensually into his mouth and sucked it.  "Do you even know how wet you are?"

I shook my head, but I had a suspicion that if I touched myself, my hand would come away soaked.  I was undeniably turned on - his mouth had felt like heaven, his tongue sliding over and into me was pure torture.  My resolve was slipping.

He noticed.

He reached for me again and I didn't pull away; he slipped his hand between my thighs again, his long fingers tickling softly over my sensitive skin, touching me lightly where it was beginning to ache the most. But this wasn't a painful ache, it was an ache of pure pleasure, and he knew I wasn't going to stop him this time.

"Sweetheart..."  He looked up at me, his eyes pleading.  "Will you let me give you this?"  He brushed his fingertip gently over my clit and my whole body tensed up.  I could feel it coming.

"Tom, I'm scared to..."

He sat up and circled me with his other arm, his hand going comfortingly up and down my spine.  "I know, baby, I know," he soothed me.  "If you don't want to, it's okay.  I won't make you."

But I wanted to.  I looked at him and felt my eyes tearing up, burning.  He understood and didn't pressure me to make a decision, just sat there holding me, rubbing my back until I finally whispered my approval in the weakest voice I think I'd ever heard from myself.  And as soon as he'd received my permission, he laid me gently back on the pillows and moved down between my legs, spreading them tenderly with his big warm hands, smiling at me reassuringly over my bruised stomach as he lowered his head and put his mouth on me again.

 

I didn't think it would happen so quickly.  One moment I was tense and nervous, the next I was screaming Tom's name and pushing my hips up, grinding myself against his face.  My stomach was heaving, my breath coming in ragged gasps; he rubbed my belly gently, soothing me, whispering "It's okay baby, it's okay," as he raised his head and smiled at me again, this time with my juices wetting his lips.  I covered my face with my hands, embarrassed that I'd come so fast. 

He moved up from between my legs and tugged my hands away, laughing softly.  "Don't hide from me baby."  I let him pull my hands down but kept my eyes shut as he kissed me, his voice still soothing me.  "It's alright, Anna...it's done, see?  Nothing to be scared of."

I wasn't ready to speak yet so I turned onto my side, still shaking, and let him rub my back.  He spooned up against me from behind and pressed his face to the back of my neck while he planted little kisses on my skin, shushing me gently, whispering to me.  Most of the words were too quiet, too softly spoken for me to make them out, but four of them kept working their way into my comprehension as I tried to relax enough to still the clenching pulses that were still running through my belly.  

_"I love you, Anna..."_

 

 

 To be continued...


	22. Chapter 22

 

 

"Hey, come dance with me."

I was in the kitchen putting together our lunch and ignored him;  I knew he would interfere with everything I was trying to do if I even acknowledged him in any way, so I pretended that he wasn't there, following the puppy principle:  don't make eye contact with the puppy or it'll bound over and jump all over you.  Tom was such a puppy sometimes.  I could see him out of the corner of my eye, shaking his hips, being his happy goofy self and making his way toward me with one hand out while he snapped in rhythm to the music with the other.

"Dance with me baby.  I'm your boogie man."

I laughed as he wiggled up to me from behind, banging his hips against my butt.

"You like KC and the Sunshine Band now?  Were you even born yet when this song came out?"

"Nope," he answered, grinding away behind me.  "But I do love old American music.  This stuff is great."  He encircled me in his arms and made me rock back and forth with him, singing along in my ear.

_I want to please you, I want to keep you_  
_I want to do it all, all for you_  
_I want to be your, be your rubber ball_  
_I want to be the boy you love most of all, oh yeah_

I tried to squirm out of his arms, laughing.  "Are those the words?  I don't think those are the words."  He tightened his arms to keep me from escaping and kept dancing.  "How can you be my rubber ball?  I don't get it."

He ignored me, spinning me around so that I was facing away from him again.  He had those crazy hips going, grinding into me from behind, pushing me into the cabinet till I had to push back against him to keep from being smashed.  He switched from wiggle hips to thrusting, slamming into my backside and making me bang into the cabinet door till I was breathless from laughing.

"Stop it freak!!"

"Aw come on baby, dance dirty with me."  He went in for the kill, closing in on my neck with his mouth, and before I realized it we were sinking to the floor, his hands guiding me onto my back while his lips devoured mine, the entire mood shifting into something decidedly less frivolous. He nudged his knees in between my thighs and I found myself tugging at his shirt, pulling it off over his head and tossing it aside with abandon as I reached for his pants next and struggled to unbutton them.

"Help me," I begged, suddenly frantic to have him naked on top of me.  He pulled his head up from where he was chewing on my throat and raised an eyebrow at me.  

"Are you sure, baby?"

"Shut up, just do it."  My voice was coming out breathless and raspy and he grinned at my sudden bossy tone; he moved his hand down and pulled mine away, unbuttoning his jeans and letting me push them down off his hips.  I slid my hands over his ass and dug my nails into his skin, bringing a deep sexy sounding groan from his chest.

_God bless yoga pants_  I thought as he swiftly tugged them down my legs, then set about pulling my panties down so he could get at me quickly. I was inexplicably wet and he groaned when his fingers slipped into my folds without resistance.  My brain started buzzing...there was something wrong...no, not wrong, but important.

"Oh god Tom, wait, we can't do this without - "

"I'm way ahead of you baby," he interrupted, his hand coming out of the pocket of his jeans with a condom.  I would have started laughing if I hadn't been so horribly turned on.

"You carry condoms all the time now?"

"You better believe it, sugar."

I watched him swiftly put it on and then sighed as he settled back onto me again, the mood never even breaking.  He was already starting to push into me by the time he got my shirt off, lowering his head to bite my nipple as he began thrusting, keeping it slow and gentle but with a barely contained sense of urgency and wildness that was beyond thrilling.  

_"Oh god baby,"_   he murmured against my breast.  "I've been waiting for this."

"For what?" I gasped, tugging at his hair, my legs coming up to lock at the ankles behind his back.

He paused for just a moment, licking and sucking at my nipple, and I could feel his lips break into a wide grin against my skin.  

_"For you to come back to me."_

 

 

"Anna, there's something we need to talk about."

Something about those words sent a chill down my spine - and even though I had no reason to suspect anything was wrong, it still set me on alert.  We were still in the kitchen, having put ourselves back together after our little romp on the floor, and I was finishing making that lunch we'd never gotten around to.  

He pulled the chair out from under the table and sat down, holding his hand out to me, and when I placed my hand in his he pulled me gently into his lap.  "I've had Luke taking care of a lot of my responsibilities back home, and he's done a great job of shuffling things around, putting things on the back burner for me.  But there are a couple of events coming up that I'm committed to, and they require my presence."  He paused and looked at me, choosing his words carefully.  "I have to go back to London."

I nodded, looking down at my knees.  I'd known this day would come, hadn't I?  He couldn't stay here with me forever, he had a life somewhere else, one that I didn't quite fit into.

"When will you go?"

He furrowed his brow and stared at me for a moment as if I'd said something horrible.

"When will _I_ go?  Well, I'd rather hoped you would be going with me."

I felt the chill fall off.  "Oh - so, it's not forever?"

"No, no darling - I just need to attend three events, in rather rapid succession fortunately, and then we'd be right back here.  Unless - "  His eyes locked to mine intently and he bent his head a little so that our faces were level with each other.  "Unless you would consider coming to London with me on a more permanent basis."

The last bit was enunciated like a question and he left it hanging there, eyebrows raised, not looking away, not even blinking.

"But..."

His face fell.  

"...school...and my job...and..."

He put his hands on my shoulders and lifted me up off his lap.  I sighed heavily, thinking he was going to walk out of the room, angry or aggravated or worse, heartbroken.  But when I stood up he took my hand and knelt down on his knee in front of me, looking up at me with big blue eyes full of anticipation and hope.

"Anna, will you marry me?"

I stared at him, dumbfounded, not because of the question that I had known was coming but because of the timing of it.   

"Look, I got the knee thing right and everything.  One knee, not two."  His eyes turned pleading.  "Please say something, Anna."  He held his hand up to me.

I wanted to say yes...I ached to say yes...but flashing through my head were images of us crossing the hotel lobby like we were running a gauntlet, flashes going off in our faces, people yelling his name...the way I felt in the cab, so angry and betrayed and _invaded_...the overwhelming urge to keep my head down and hide behind him.  It all came back and it was all ugly, it felt bad, and I couldn't see it ever feeling good.

But everything since then had been better than good...

Because we were here, on _my_ territory, away from anyone that knew him.  Away from any place where he was expected to be the big movie star, the media darling, the world's favorite Prince Charming.  Where he was just my guy, nothing else.  Could we handle yet another massive shift in our relationship?

Looking down into his eyes, seeing so much love and hope shining there, I knew I could only give him one answer.  I hadn't been lying, it hadn't been pillowtalk - I wanted to be his wife, more than anything, but this was sudden and it meant putting the screeching halt on my life plans once again.  For a guy, again.

That part hurt my pride, and it was a stinging, bruising kind of hurt.  The fact that he'd gone down on his knee while I was protesting about quitting school made it all that much worse.  He had sworn he wouldn't ever ask me again to give up my goals.  So why was he down there, doing that very thing?

"Anna, talk to me sweetheart.  Please?"

I shook my head and his eyebrow went up as he took my hand.  "I'm not asking you to marry me this weekend, darling.  Or next weekend, or next month.  I just want your commitment."  He smiled gently.  "Can you give me that?  Your commitment to us?"

I stared at his hand, with my hand in it.  His thumb was rubbing gently across the back of my knuckles and it was having a subconsciously soothing effect on me.  It was also melting my resolve.  But he was right in asking for my commitment, because of the two of us, I was the only one who hadn't put anything into the construct of our future.  I was still functioning as if this would all end one day, event though he'd made it abundantly clear he had no intention of letting that happen.  I suddenly felt awful...he had absolute faith in us, why didn't I?  

I knew it was because his life was in London, with cameras in his face and fans yelling at him and everyone wanting to know and document his every move.  The last few months had involved none of that, and I'd felt at ease, in familiar surroundings, able to fall in love with him again at my own pace without any outside interference.  I was scared to let go of that security and follow him back into his world.  But as far as being committed to him, to us...

I still hadn't called my dean to discuss returning to classes.  Why hadn't I gone back to school already?   It was undecided in my mind whether I was going to or not.  Wasn't that something of an indication that I was ready to commit to him, even if it was a subconscious one?  And if so, then why was I blaming him for asking me to quit?  It seemed I had already as much as decided to do that on my own... _but he didn't know that,_ and my heart was holding onto that fact. He didn't know I was thinking of quitting, and he was not only proposing, he was asking me to go back to London with him, permanently.

I was so confused, all I could do was stare at him.

"As for school," he suddenly said with a sly grin, "I hope you'll forgive me, but I spoke with your dean.  She said you never called her, by the way. Were you thinking of quitting?"  He gave me a scolding look as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded up booklet, handing it to me before I could respond.  "I got this from her for you to look at.  I thought if we ended up going back to London and staying there, this would be a good option so that you wouldn't feel like you had to give up school."  

I unfolded it and looked at it.  It was a leaflet for online courses in psychology.

"You and your pamphlets."

He laughed a little.  "Yeah, I do tend to pick them up wherever I go.  I'm a compulsive reader."  He shrugged.  "Does that look like something you would like to consider?"

I had no idea what I was supposed to be focusing on...marriage, moving to England, resuming my degree work, it was all being laid out in front of me and I felt like he wanted me to agree to all three at once.  It was dizzying.  "Are you asking me to marry you, or are you asking me to sign up for online classes from your laptop in London?  Because there are _way_ too many proposals on the table right now and I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed."

He laughed, his expression turning sheepish.  "Did I ever mention I have ADD?"

"No but it explains a lot if you're serious."

"I'm afraid I'm very serious."

We just stared at each other for a moment, then I started laughing - I wasn't even sure why, but it relieved the stress and after a second he started laughing as well.  I held the pamphlet up over my face to hide my smile.

"So did you really just propose marriage, a move to another continent, and college courses all in one shot?"

"I believe I did, yes."

"And you really expect me to give you an answer on all three of them?"

"Well...you could choose one to answer now, and leave the rest for later - but I will expect an answer to each of them eventually."

I took a deep breath.

"Then...yes."

He gave me a quizzical look, waiting for me to elaborate, but I didn't say anything else.

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"Yes to...which?"

"Which one do you want it to be to?"  He opened his mouth to answer but I put my finger up and pushed it against his lips.  "Bonus points if you give a reason for your choice - if it's good enough, I'll give an answer to one of the other two as well."

He grinned, scooting closer to me, wincing a little bit.  "Darling I feel like I've been down here for a week now, can I get an answer to the marriage thing first before my knee gives out?"

"Your knee is your reason for choosing that one?"

"At the moment, I'm afraid so."

I gave him a disapproving look and he sighed, shifting to his other knee.  "There, now I can last a bit longer."  Reaching for my other hand, he gave them both a squeeze and a kiss.  "Marry me, Anna.  Make me the luckiest man alive and I promise I'll make you the happiest woman."

My stomach was knotting, but it wasn't in fear or dread or anxiety, or even nervousness over having the rest of my life looking me in the face with an expression of hope and adoration from the kitchen floor.  I wasn't sure what it was, truthfully, but it didn't feel bad.  It didn't feel bad at all.

"Yeah.  Sure.  Why not."

He cocked his head, his right eyebrow lifted in consternation.  It obviously wasn't the response he had been expecting.  I couldn't resist reaching down and booping his nose.  "That was to the one about the online classes.  It's better than quitting, right?  And I can do it from anywhere in the world - meaning the answer to the London question is yes too, I suppose."  He started to open his mouth to speak but I cut him off. "For the _three events_.  We'll discuss this 'more permanent basis' thing later."

He broke slowly into a cautious smile, but I could tell he was getting nervous.  "Okay, so...that was two, you promised me two.  Does that mean I have to wait to find out the third?"

I couldn't torture him like that.  Watching him squirm was amusing, but I was starting to feel bad about it.  

"You're going to break that eyebrow if you don't quit that."  I gave him a few more seconds to give me his very best pleading look, which rendered him pretty much the equivalent of a golden retriever puppy begging for a rawhide chew toy, and then I just couldn't do it anymore.  He was too pitiful and adorable and I loved him too much.

"Of course I'll marry you, you big goof.  Get off the floor."  I tugged at his hair with my hands on both sides of his head as he stood up in my arms, his lips coming straight to mine in what could only be described as a kiss to end all kisses.  

 

 

The next morning while Tom was out on his run, I got up and decided to go downtown by myself for a bit.  I was feeling better and starting to get restless;  I hadn't really been out of the house much since my surgery, and Tom had been trying to convince me to venture out a little more, telling me the sunshine and fresh air would do me wonders.  I knew what he actually meant was for me to go places with him - but his proposal and my subsequent acceptance had given me the sad realization that my hard-won independence might be on its way out, and if I wanted much more exclusive alone time, I probably should be getting it in now.  

I was standing at the fountain in the town square trying to decide where I wanted to go when my phone buzzed.  I looked at it, expecting to see Tom's grinning face on the screen, but it wasn't there and I didn't recognize the number.  He had mentioned getting a different phone while he was here; he must have done that before his run.  I clicked accept and read the text.

_(unknown)_  Hey

_(Anna)_  Hey yourself.  You got a new phone?

_(unknown)_  I've been missing you

_(Anna)_  I haven't been gone that long

_(unknown)_  Seems like forever

_(Anna)_  Aww, aren't you the romantic one

_(unknown)_  I want to see you...now

_(Anna)_   Well I'm at the square, so you'll have to wait.  Hold on -

I held my phone up, snapping a picture of myself in front of the fountain, smiling my happiest smile.  I clicked send, feeling light and giddy.  I knew he'd be proud of me for getting out of the house.

_(Anna)_  There you go.  Your turn :)  Oops, incoming call, hold on

 

Tom's face popped up on the screen.  I answered, confused.

"Hello?"

"Hello darling!"

"Tom?"

"Of course, were you expecting someone else?"

"Why is your call coming from a different number than your texts?"

"What texts, sweetheart?"

 

My heart seized up, an icy chill suddenly washing over my entire body.  

"Darling?  Anna, what's wrong?"

"Hold on a second..."

"Anna what's going on?  Talk to me!  Anna?!"

 

I switched back to the texts.  A photo was waiting to be accepted.  Trembling, my stomach lurching, I clicked accept.

Eric, smiling at me.

My entire nervous system went on alert, bypassing panic mode and going straight into emergency.  I spun around, looking at everyone around me, scanning every passing face, expecting to see him right behind me.  I couldn't breathe, I felt like I was going to pass out, and behind it all I could hear Tom's panicked voice, yelling for me to talk to him.

My hands shaking violently, I raised the phone to my ear.

_"He found me, Tom."_

 

 

To be continued...

 


	23. Chapter 23

 

 

 

There was a moment of silence at the other end, then he went into efficiency mode.  

"Is he there?"

"No."

"Tell me where you are.  Exact location."

"Town Square, next to the fountain."

"Sit down on the edge of the fountain, on the east side.   _Stay there_.  Don't move, Anna.  I'll be right there to get you."

I obeyed, slipping into that eerie calm that often follows morbid panic.  Everything seemed blurry and soft-edged, but I forced myself to stay alert, looking at every face that passed.  Tom's voice edged itself into my consciousness again - neither of us had hung up.  

"Anna?  Are you at the fountain?"

"Yes."

"Do you see him?"

"No."

"I'm on my way, I'm five minutes away.  I was at the house so I'm coming in your car.  Tell me what happened, baby."

"He texted me.  I thought it was you so I was texting back.  Shit I sent him a picture, I thought it was you Tom."

"Can he tell where you are from the picture?"

"Probably, yes."

"Where were you when you took it?"

"Right here.  Shit.  He'll know this is where I am.  Wait - he sent me one back."

I pulled up the photo of Eric and looked at the background.

The fountain.

"He's  _here_  Tom.  I can't see him but he's here.  The fountain is in the background of his picture."

"Fuck.  Are there a lot of people walking around?"

"Yes."

"Then stay there anyway.  He can't do anything to you with a crowd watching.  I'm almost there."

I sat down with my back to the cascading water, looking around nervously, trying not to _look_ like I was looking around nervously.  The fountain was huge, from the picture it looked like he'd been on the west side, but still - knowing Eric had been that close to me was horrifying.  He knew where I was before he sent his first text, he'd been right here, somewhere close enough to see me.  He'd probably been looking right at me.

I turned to look across the fountain but the big ornate statues in the center blocked my view of the entire west side.  The square was crowded with people.  He could be anywhere.  But Tom was right, he couldn't really do much as long as I stayed where a hundred eyes could see me.

"Anna, you stopped talking sweetheart.  Are you okay?"

"Yes.  Where are you?"  My voice was shaking and I knew he could hear it, but I didn't care.  I was genuinely scared.

"I'm just turning the corner at Ruby's.  I'm almost there."

Someone sat down next to me, leaving just a foot or so of space between us.  I snapped my head around, panicked, but it was just an elderly woman putting down her shopping bags for a rest.

"Please hurry Tom.  I'm freaking out here."

"I ran two red lights already, baby.  I'm going to get deported for this, I don't even have a license."

A tall man walked past and smiled at me.  With the sun behind his head, I couldn't make out his face until he'd gone by...it wasn't Eric, but I was starting to put his face on everyone.  The old woman next to me reached over and patted my arm.  "Are you okay sweetie?"

I jumped when she touched me, but having her there made me feel safer suddenly, so I scooted closer to her and forced a smile.  "Just having a little bit of an anxiety attack," I replied sheepishly.  "I haven't been out of the house in a while."

"Oh honey, I know how those are.  I got them for two years after my husband died.  Every time I left the house."  She patted my arm again and sipped her coffee, sitting quietly, offering her support just by being there.

I heard Tom's voice and put the phone back to my ear.

"Look up Anna, I'm just coming past the bike shop."

I looked up and scanned around, looking for the bike shop.  It was to the left and as soon as I turned I saw him, striding toward me in that long legged gait of his that I always had so much trouble keeping up with.  Relief flooded over me but I didn't move...Eric was most likely watching from somewhere, and if he saw us together it would probably set him off.

"Tom I see you.  Stop, don't come any closer."

"Is he here?"

"Somewhere, but I don't know where.  If he sees you - "

I could see him nodding his understanding.  He stopped and stood facing the bike shop window, like he was checking out the bikes.

"Get up and come this way.  Go past me and head for the parking lot.  I'll follow you.  Your car is in row B near the front, get in the driver side and roll the window down."

I stood, turning to say goodbye to the old woman.  She smiled up at me and patted my hand one last time.  "Everything will be okay, sweetie," she assured me.  "Just hang in there."

 

I walked past Tom and headed for the lot like he told me, finding my car where he said it would be.  I got in and rolled the window down, and a few seconds later he strolled past and tossed my keys in without stopping.  They landed in my lap and he said in a low voice, "Pick me up at the coffee shop around the corner," as he kept going.  

 

All the subterfuge was exciting, but not in a good way.  My hands were shaking as I pulled up in front of the coffee shop and Tom got quickly into the car.  He had pulled the hood up on his sweatshirt and was wearing dark sunglasses;  I took one look at him and didn't know if I should laugh or cry, so I ended up doing a little bit of both.

"Take us home baby," he said as he buckled in.  "We've got shit to figure out."

 

We talked, discussing our options.  I hadn't seen Eric in over a year.  I'd changed my number, moved to a different city, gotten on with my life while he faded quietly into the background.  Now he was back and it was obvious that he'd not only found me, he was watching.

The rest of my ugly history with him spilled out, things I had refrained from telling Tom in favor of just leaving it at 'He's a dick, thank god he's gone' after our initial discussion of him.  When I got to the part about his out of control jealousy and what he had threatened repeatedly to do if he ever caught me with another man, Tom stood up and paced to the other side of the room, raking his hands through his hair in agitation.  He eventually looked over at me and I saw that his eyes had shifted to that steely grey blue, like silver ice, the way they had looked when he was lost in the character of Sir William.  But this time there was something else, something almost accusatory, a cold harsh whisper of _Is there anything else you haven't told me?_ lurking at the back of his expression.

He stared at me for a moment, then sighed heavily and looked down at the rug, his face softening.  His shoulders slumped in a distinctly defeated posture.  I felt miserable seeing him like that, like I had let him down somehow.  It hurt, and his voice when he finally spoke had a distinct note of sadness and resignation to it.

"As much as I would love to confront him, I think our best option would be to leave.  We're going in three weeks anyway, we should just go now."

I nodded.  I couldn't believe I was agreeing with him, but there was absolutely nothing in me that wanted to stay, for anything.  Not with Eric sniffing around.

"When can we leave?"

 

Twelve hours later we were on a plane to London.  I had nothing but a carry on - Tom had told me to just grab a change of clothes and my passport and he would get me everything I needed once we got there.  I obeyed without hesitation, and once we were on the plane and settled into our seats for the long flight, I slumped over against him and covered my face with his jacket so I could cry without anybody looking at me. Eric had succeeded in chasing me out of my own home, even out of my own _country,_ but there was no distance too far to go to get away from him.  I knew what he was capable of, it had been proven to me too many times for me to ignore it and hope for the best.  I didn't tell Tom, but it was his life I was the most concerned about - he was in just as much, if not more, danger than I was.

He immediately put his arm around me and told me everything would be alright, we were together and he would take care of me, Eric couldn't get to me now.  I'd be safe.  His home would be my home and I would love it, he was sure of it.  I nodded my agreement to everything he said...I didn't have any argument left in me and I was too tired to put together enough thoughts to say much of anything.  We had spent the last six hours in the airport terminal on the assumption that Eric had probably found my house and the safest place was anywhere but there - I was exhausted beyond my limit, shaky and on edge, just letting him lead me around by the hand and tell me what to do.  I felt like a fugitive.

He had gathered my medications and my Kindle, stuffing them into his own bag, and he had my phone in his pocket.  Eric was still sending me texts as we were leaving the square, but I hadn't seen any of them, because Tom had taken it the moment he got into the car and turned it off. He could see how scared I was, I'm sure, and his protective instinct took over, which was fine with me - I didn't feel like thinking for myself, much less making decisions.  Eric had always scrambled my brains that way.

Now Tom took my Kindle out of his bag and turned it on, opening one of the books I'd just downloaded.  In a quiet voice he started reading it to me, letting me keep my head under his jacket, not even trying to stop me from crying.  

 

At some point I dozed off and heard Tom talking with the stewardess;  she was asking if he would like a pillow and blanket for me, and he was thanking her.  She had referred to me as "your wife" and he didn't correct her.

The thought of being his wife comforted me somehow, and I was finally able to go completely to sleep long enough to wake up feeling better.  

 

On one of our layovers I woke up with a start and sat up, confused, with no idea where I was.  I remembered getting off the plane and settling in the passengers waiting area, but Tom wasn't with me and I panicked for a moment till I saw him a few yards away, talking to what appeared to be a small group of fans.  He looked so tired, but he signed their scraps of paper and let them take selfies with him despite what I'm sure was complete exhaustion and a mood not entirely conducive to meeting strangers.  He was impressive in spite of everything, as always.  He looked over and saw that I was awake and excused himself, shaking hands and giving a couple of hugs before he could get away.

"Hey sweetheart, did you sleep well?"  He sat down beside me and slipped an arm around me, tugging me close.

I nodded, yawning.  "How long have we been here?"

"A couple of hours.  I bet you're hungry, we have another hour before our flight.  Do you want to get something to eat?"

I realized I hadn't had anything except airplane pretzels since...god, how long had we been traveling?  "Yeah, I'm starved."

He stood and took both our bags, holding his hand out to me.  When I took it he led me through the airport to the food court, where he ordered food for us and settled us in at a table, putting a straw in my cup, laying my food out in front of me, encouraging me to eat.  I cringed on the inside...we'd been off my territory for less than a day and he was already in super dom mode, making me feel like a child being led around by daddy.  Part of me was grateful to have him taking the lead, since my head was anywhere except in the game, but another part was clenched in gutwrenching dread of the total loss of the independence and self sufficiency I had worked so hard to achieve.  Would it be like this from now on once we were on his territory?

Tom was looking at me, and for a moment I could almost feel him reading my thoughts.  He reached over and put his hand over mine, squeezing my fingers gently.

"Hey," he said softly.  "You're not eating."  He let go of my hand and brushed my hair back off my face with his fingertips, still watching me closely.  "It's going to be okay, you know.  It will."

"You promise?"  The words made me feel like even more of a child than I already did, but aside from the discomfort I felt at letting him be the boss of me, there was something undeniably comforting in it as well. He would look out for me, take care of me, and protect me, that much I knew for certain.  What was so bad about allowing him to?

He broke into a wide toothy smile.  "I promise."

 

I almost cried when we got on the plane again.  We'd switched planes three times already and I was just so tired of the whole thing, ready for it to be over, angry at Eric for making all this necessary.  Tom was used to international travel and didn't seem bothered, but he realized I'd about had enough and helped me every way he could.  It seemed like I'd been leaning on him for the entire trip.

Our tickets had been bought hurriedly and without prior arrangement, so we'd had to take whatever was available, which meant several stops, layovers, switches, and a lot of additional hours added onto what should have been a twelve hour trip.  But on this last leg we got lucky and were upgraded to first class, thanks in no small part to Tom placing a call to Luke during our final switch and having him make some quick arrangements from his end.  

"Have you ever flown first class, darling?" he asked as we were directed to our seats at the front of the plane by a stewardess who obviously recognized Tom.  I shook my head, holding onto his hand tightly as he led me down the long aisle.  "You'll love it.  You'll be able to get comfortable and get a _good_ sleep this time."

We settled in and Tom made sure I had everything I needed while we waited, spreading a blanket over me to keep me warm and fetching my Kindle and his iPod from his bag.  I was relieved when he pulled my purse from his carry on and sat it next to me - I hadn't even been completely sure that I'd grabbed it on our way out of the house.  We had locked up and left so quickly that my spinning head could barely even tell me how to walk on my own, much less go through a mental checklist of what to take.  In all likelihood it was probably Tom who had grabbed it.

The more I thought about it, the more certain I was that his dom mode was a good thing.  If he wasn't with me, leading me around by the hand and keeping track of my things, I would never have even made it out of my own house.

"It's time for your medication sweetheart," he whispered after takeoff, leaning across me to get my bag.  He let his arm brush against my breast as he reached over me and in that moment I wanted worse than anything to be back home, in bed with him curled around me, his arms holding me loosely, just listening to him breathe onto my skin as he slept.  I reached out from under the blanket and took his elbow, keeping his arm against my chest, and he immediately shifted so that he was facing me and pulled the blanket up to my neck with his arm underneath it.  He nudged his nose into the side of my neck and sighed warmly against my ear.  "Would you like me to help you relax so you can sleep?"

I nodded, giving him an affirming _mnn hmm_ as I scooted down a little in my seat.  He leaned over and adjusted our seats so that we were reclined a bit, then pulled the privacy curtain across the end of our row and tugged the blanket over both of us.  "There's a 'do not disturb' button on the arm of your chair darling," he whispered, his hand sliding down to my stomach to rub gently.  "Press it, would you?"

I did as I was told, completely in awe of the luxury we had access to.  I'd always heard first class was nice, but this was something else entirely.  

"There, now we've got our privacy," he murmured against my shoulder, his fingers rubbing lightly over my bellybutton.  "How are your incisions feeling?  We haven't even had time to check them today."  He moved the blanket down to my lap and lifted my shirt to inspect me.  I had taken the bandaids off the last time I went to the bathroom because they'd been on all day and were bothering me, so he ran his fingers gently over each of the slowly healing scars, watching my face closely to see if I flinched or winced at his touch.  They were still a bit tender, especially the one directly above my bellybutton, but I kept a straight face so that he wouldn't be worried.  Poor guy was working overtime, getting us where we needed to be, hauling me along behind him and taking care of everything himself.  I'd been useless through the entire ordeal and he had stepped up, like always. I wasn't sure if he'd even taken a nap yet - every time I woke up I found him watching over me, no indication that he'd ever even closed his eyes.

"These look good," he finally said, laying his palm flat over my stomach.  "No worse for wear."  The heat from his hand melted into my skin and I sighed.  I loved his touch so much.  "Is it okay if I stroke you a little, sweetheart?"

I nodded and scooted down a little more so that I could open my legs.  He shifted onto his side in his own seat and slipped his right arm under my head, sliding his left hand further down my belly and under the waistband of my pants.  "God bless yoga pants," he whispered with a slight snicker. I giggled a little, feeling light hearted for the first time since the previous morning when I'd left the house to venture out on my own. Before all this crap had come crashing down on us.

"Everything's going to be alright, isn't it?" I asked in a tiny, timid voice that didn't sound a thing like me.  He nodded and gave me his most honest, earnest face.  

"Yes," was all he said.

It was all I needed.

 

His hand pushed gently down into my panties and his long fingers found my opening, pressing in just enough to help me get wet.  I sucked in my breath at his touch, a bit surprised at how quickly my body responded to him even under the stressful circumstances.  It was a little disconcerting to realize that I could be on the run with nothing but the clothes on my back and a carry on bag with a pair of jeans in it and still be aroused by the simplest of touches from this man.  But it was also gloriously life affirming, and I suddenly felt better, so much better that I let a moan escape my throat as I pushed my hips up to give him better access to me.

"Shhhh," he chastised me gently, tapping his finger against my quickly dampening folds.  "Our neighbors will get horny listening to that."

I bit my lip and turned my face to him.  His lips pressed to mine immediately, drawing me into a long, soft, arousingly invasive kiss, full of tongue and warm breath that tasted slightly of the whiskey he'd downed before takeoff.  His fingers found their way to my clit and rubbed gently at it while I moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled as his tongue played teasingly with mine.

"Welcome to the Mile High Club, darling," he whispered as he stroked me.

 

Later, as I was starting to doze off, relaxed and warm from the rush of feel-good hormones that were flooding my system from two breathless orgasms, Tom turned on his iPod and reached over to put the earbuds into my ears.

 _I rose up this morning_  
_Smiled with the rising sun,_  
_Three little birds_  
_Beside my doorstep_  
_Singing sweet songs_  
_Melodies pure and true,_  
_Saying, This is my message to you_  
  
_Don't worry about a thing,_  
_'Cause every little thing is gonna be alright_  
_Don't worry about a thing_  
_'Cause every little thing is gonna be alright..._

 

 

To be continued...

 


	24. Chapter 24

 

 

It seemed like days before we finally landed at Heathrow.  My first steps onto English soil were taken holding tightly to Tom's hand with a feeling of resignation and exhilaration that both confused and excited me. _I've done it.  I'm here.  I walked away from my life for this man and here I am._

He hailed us a cab while I watched with mild surprise;  I had expected everything would be ready for us, just waiting for us to arrive, but he was making all his own phonecalls, flagging down his own taxis.  I asked if Luke was coming to get us and he laughed.  "No darling, I'm not working, remember?  I'm on regular-guy time now.  Luke just babysits me when I'm on the job because I'm hopeless when my head's in character."

I had been hanging behind him with my head down, expecting hordes of paparazzi and screaming fans the moment we arrived, but nothing happened and we crossed the airport without incident.  He was recognized - twice - but the people who spotted him were polite and well mannered, snapping a few quick photos with his permission once he'd asked me if I minded.  He was considerate of me and let me step aside and I was all but unnoticed as they chatted with him and he signed autographs, giving a few chaste hugs on request to the ladies, and then we were on our way again.  It was a pleasant surprise...I had been expecting a fiasco like the hotel lobby all over again, and the prospect had put my stomach in knots.  But he and his London fans seemed to have a mutual understanding and respect for each other, and he respected my unspoken wishes to not be included in this particular aspect of his life, at least for now.  The feeling of dread that had been broiling in my gut finally started to settle.

The cab ride to Tom's house was almost an hour and he encouraged me to catch a nap on the way.  I was starting to get excited, watching the scenery, the beautiful old buildings, this new old world I'd never seen before except in travel documentaries.  He laughed and pulled me close, promising that there would be plenty of time to see it all.  "This is your home now, sweetheart."

It really hit me, then, the reality of what he said.   _This is your home now._ I barely had any idea where I was, yet this was where I would possibly be spending the rest of my life.  Here, with him.  I looked at him and he was smiling, his face lined with stress and exhaustion, but the smile was genuine and it was all for me.

 

He woke me with a gentle nudge when we arrived.  I climbed sleepily out of the cab and stood beside it, waiting while he retrieved our two sad little carry on bags from the back seat and paid the driver.  We had arrived with barely more than the clothes we were wearing, like penniless immigrants landing in a new world to start a new life.  It was scary, but felt good.  No baggage, no former life.  Just us, here, now, new.

I didn't even know which side of the street to look at.  I had no idea which house was his, they were all big and lovely, old stone two-stories with ancient ivy creeping up the stonework, like hobbit houses for big people.  The whole block was charming in an old-world kind of way, but at the end of the lane I could see the slightly newer buildings of businesses and shops.

Tom's arm came around my shoulders as the cab drove away.  "Everything's in walking distance, whatever you need is just right down that way." He motioned in the direction I was looking, toward the shops.  I looked up at him and saw him smiling, obviously happy to be home again.  "Are you ready?"

I nodded nervously.  "Which one is yours?"

He held his hand out toward the brown stone house in front of us.  "This is it, baby.  Welcome home."

 

There was no unpacking to do, since I had one change of clothes and a Kindle without a charger to my name.  He showed me around the house, giving me a quick tour of the downstairs, then took me by the hand and led me upstairs to the bedroom.  "You can shower if you'd like and then sleep a bit - I'm going to run down to the shops and pick up some groceries, there's nothing here to eat.  I'll be back shortly."  He gave me a soft, quick kiss on the cheek.  "Do you feel comfortable being by yourself for about a half hour?  I'll lock up behind me."

I nodded and just stood there, staring at the bed.  It was the only thing in the house that seemed to have any color to it...everything was white, but his bedspread was dark blue, and there was a blue and beige striped blanket across the foot of it.  Other than that, this room was just as white as the rest of the house.  He noticed me staring and rubbed his hand slowly up and down my arm.  "You okay with sleeping in my bed?  If you'd like some time to acclimate to being here first, I do have a guest room, if you'd feel more comfortable having a room of your own."

I shook my head, cutting him off.  "No, it's not that.  I just...everything is...so _white."_

He laughed, tossing his head back and crinkling up his eyes.  "Yes, it is.  I'm afraid the house came like this and I just never did anything with it. My sister is always on me to get some color into the place, but I'm never here for long enough to bother."  He was still smiling broadly when he looked back at me again.  "If you like, you can feel free to fix the place up, any way you like.  You have my blessing.  Bring color to my life, Anna."  He kissed me again, on the lips this time, a quick peck that was more affection than anything else.  It made me feel happy.  "This is your home now, darling.  Do anything you want with it.  I want you to love it."

 

He left to get groceries and I wandered around a little before taking my shower, peeking into his library, impressed by how many books he had. He didn't have a lot of clutter, but books were in abundance, along with CDs and what looked like a room full of gifts from fans - artwork, handmade crafts, photos, countless bits of Loki memorabilia.  Loki seemed to be everyone's favorite character of his and there were dolls, drawings, sculptures, action figures, even a blanket with his face on it.  I had to laugh when I saw he had the figures arranged so that they were fighting each other.  He was such a big kid sometimes.

After my shower I rummaged around in his drawers till I found a teeshirt to change into.  I had nothing of my own to sleep in and it felt strange going through his clothes, but I knew it was what he would tell me to do if he were there.  I found a pair of sweatpants and some socks and put those on too, giggling when I saw how long the sweats were on me;  I had to roll them up six times just to get them above my ankles, but they were clean and comfortable and I could have cared less what I looked like.  Once I had them on I planned on going back downstairs to wander around a bit, maybe check out the kitchen, but the complete and overwhelming exhaustion I'd been fighting ever since we left the States seemed to catch up to me in one sudden moment and I curled up on the bed, not even bothering to get under the blankets.  I must have been asleep before I made it to the pillows.

 

Tom woke me up later, I don't know how much later, but it must have been at least a couple of hours.  I was in that groggy, disoriented state that first envelopes you when you regain consciousness in a strange place after a particularly tiring experience, and I sat blinking at him dumbly, trying to figure out where I was.  He was brushing my hair back out of my eyes and smiling sweetly, still looking tired himself.

"Wake up sweetheart, you need to eat and it's time to take you medication."

I nodded as he helped me off the bed, letting me lean on him as I stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen.  He had made me some soup and had my little bottles of pills set out on the table, along with a new charger cable for my Kindle.  In our hurry to leave, mine had been left behind - along with everything else I owned.  I was starting to feel it keenly, the strange emptiness of having absolutely nothing, and I think he must have sensed it;  he pulled my chair out for me and started uncapping my prescriptions, easily opening the tricky childproof lids.

"Tomorrow, if you're feeling up to it, we can go into the high street and get you some clothes and things.  Whatever you need."  He pushed my hair back off my shoulder and clucked playfully, obviously trying to keep the mood light.  "You're a mess, we need to get you a brush for certain. Look at this unruly mop."  He tugged at my hair and I put my hands over my face, suddenly overwhelmed by everything, and started to cry in a ridiculously loud high pitched wail.

He must have been expecting it because he didn't react, just sat down next to me and put his hand on my head, waiting for me to be done.  My outburst only lasted for a few seconds and then it was over, as quickly as it had started, taking with it a huge heavy weight of stress and anxiety that obviously had just needed a quick venting.  I lowered my hands and looked at him.

"That's the first time you haven't pulled my hands off my face," I said, wiping at my cheeks with my palms.  He just smiled and sat quietly looking at me for a moment, then he reached out and brushed away a stray tear that I'd missed.

"I knew you could do it yourself," he said quietly.

 

We stayed up for a little while, listening to music and trying to relax, worn out and jetlagged beyond reason but too off-kilter from the time change to be able to settle down enough for sleep.  When we finally did go back upstairs, we fell into bed and curled up with him behind me, his arms draped loosely around me.  He kissed me on the back of the head and told me he loved me, but I think he was asleep before I could even say it back.

My first morning in London was actually an afternoon;  we slept in, catching up on our lost rest while our internal clocks reset themselves, and when I finally woke up again I could hear Tom on the phone talking to someone.  I didn't want to eavesdrop and I tried not to listen, but when I heard Eric's name, my ears automatically tuned in.  He was telling someone what had happened.

I followed his voice to the library down the hall and stood in the doorway.  It was open and he looked up and smiled at me, motioning for me to come inside, taking me by the hand and pulling me down onto his lap when I walked over to him.  I could hear the voice at the other end saying _I'll take care of it_ while Tom rubbed my back and kissed the side of my neck.  He ended the conversation a minute later with a quick "Thanks Luke, just let me know when it's done," and tossed the phone onto the desk.

"Good morning sweetheart, did you sleep well?"

I nodded and snuggled against his chest, letting him hug me and kiss my head.  "Does the bed suit you?  Were you warm enough?"

"I was just glad to be _in_  a bed, I wouldn't have cared if it was made of nails."

He laughed.  "That one is in the basement, darling.  I didn't think it wise to show it to you yet."

I knew he was trying to get a rise out of me, but I was still too tired to care, although I did feel tremendously better after that last sleep.  I dug my fingers into his ribs and he squealed almost like a girl.  "You have a dungeon?  Cool...I'd love to string you up and play with your toys."

He bounced me on his lap so that I was off balance and tipped me backwards, laying me back in his arms like a baby.  "And you're due for a spanking young lady, best I recall it's been _months_ since I laid you over my knee."

Despite my best efforts to remain unaffected, I shivered, a full-blown full-body shiver that completely betrayed my feelings on the matter.  It didn't escape Tom's notice and I saw his eyes darken almost immediately, the smile on his face taking on a wicked twist.  His gaze was starting a downward glide toward my chest when his phone rang, skittering across the desk as it vibrated.

"Shit...sorry love, I've got to take that."  He reached for the phone and answered it while I sat back upright on his knee again.  The conversation was short, consisting mainly of _okay_ and _thank you_ from Tom's end, and when he hung up he smiled at me.  "That was Luke.  He's arranged for a shipping company to go to your place and gather the things you want to be shipped here.  It'll take a few weeks once they get your list, but you'll be able to have your stuff.  In the meantime - "  he shifted me on his lap, moving me closer  "- we'll go shopping today if you feel like it." He hooked a finger in the neck of the huge baggy teeshirt I'd borrowed from his drawer and gave it a tug.  "Your current wardrobe not only doesn't fit right, it doesn't suit you in the least."

"You'd feel differently about that if I didn't have the sweatpants on," I argued, swinging my legs, marveling at how I couldn't reach the floor with my feet while sitting on his lap.  He looked down.

"You're probably right about that.  If you were wiggling around the house in just this shirt, with your cute little legs sticking out the bottom..." He slid his hand down my thigh to squeeze my knee, bringing his face closer to mine, so close that I could feel his breath against my chin.  "I think I could be persuaded to let you live in nothing but my teeshirts."

I felt his hand tighten on my knee, just a bit, but his breathing quickened at the same time so there was no way to write it off as just an affectionate squeeze.  I let him slide his hand up to my belly and down into my pants where he pressed his fingers against my folds, pushing into them gently till he nudged a fingertip against my opening.  I was dry so he didn't try to push in.

His mouth came to mine and kissed me tenderly, his lips parting to suck at my lower lip, his tongue moving very softly across it as his fingers carried on at a similarly slow and gentle pace between my legs.

I felt myself get wet almost instantly.

"You do that so easily," I whispered, my voice barely audible over our breathing.

"Do what?"

 _"Coax my dampness from me,"_ I said dramatically, quoting something he'd said to me once.  He laughed.

"You're a very sensual woman, darling.  It's not difficult."

"It wasn't easy until you."

He had been continuing to kiss me as we talked, but now he stopped and pulled his head back so he could see my face.  There was an unmistakable look in his eyes, concern mixed with sadness and tinged with something akin to a pained anger.

"Was sex painful for you...before?"

"My only _before_   before you was Eric, Tom.  You can say his name."

"I'd rather not."

His fingers had stilled, pressing against me inside my panties but not moving now.

"Yes, it always hurt with him."

He paused for a moment, his eyes looking past me, his head nodding almost imperceptively.

"And does it hurt with me?"

I swallowed hard.  It was best to be honest, he would figure it out anyway, and his feelings would be hurt that I'd never told him.  "Yes, sometimes.  But not the kind of hurt that makes me want to stop."

He nodded again, just barely.  No doubt he'd noticed how I always tensed up as he was entering me, how I turned my face away so he couldn't see me bite my lip.  He was too observant for any of it to have escaped his notice.  I didn't try to explain any of it away.  There was no need.

Pressing his lips to my neck, he resumed kissing me, with more fervor and intensity this time.  "Always tell me, Anna," he whispered against my throat.  "I know it's uncomfortable for you sometimes...promise me you'll always tell me if you're not ready enough or if it hurts too much."  I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck as he shifted me on his lap so that he could move his hand again.  "You're so small, I knew it must hurt sometimes.  I wish I could help ease that more for you."

"It's not bad, I promise...it's just, sometimes...you're just so big, and I get nervous because..."  I was stammering, so I stopped talking and just looked at my phone, laying on the desk in front of us, beside his.  He understood immediately.

"That's post traumatic stress, darling.  It's hard for you not to associate sex with him because that was a defining factor in his abuse.  It's normal."  He nuzzled my cheek with his nose.  "You're normal, sweetheart."

I smiled a little, feeling better.  His words made sense and lifted a weight off my mind.  I knew he was right - I'd analyzed it all in my head a thousand times over, my psychology studies kicking in every time I thought about it, but it was hard applying it to myself when I was so close to the situation.   _Physician heal thyself._  I laughed and shook my head.

"I should know all this.  I _do_ know all this.  But it sounds better coming from you than it does when it's bouncing around inside my head, arguing with the self doubt and the second guessing and - "

I realized then that he was shushing me, his lips grazing lightly along my jawline, leaving warm little kisses in their wake while I rattled on with my self analysis.  And then, with a bit of surprise, I realized that his fingers were moving between my legs again, pushing gently against me. When I stopped talking he very slowly eased one inside, waiting to hear my quiet sigh before he moved his thumb up to my clit and began stroking it firmly.

"Would you like to go back to the bedroom?" he whispered, rubbing with more intensity, making me squirm on his lap.  He was using diversion to calm me, and it was working.  "I just remembered that we haven't christened the bed yet."

"Okay," I whispered, nodding.  "But can we just...you know..."

"Make love?" he finished for me, smiling as he kissed my nose.  "Absolutely, sweetheart."

 

Later that afternoon Tom took me to the shops and I bought a few things to get me through till my own belongings could be shipped over.  It felt completely wrong, letting a man buy things for me...at one point when I mentioned that I would pay him back once I found work, he threw his head back and laughed, giving me a look that told me I was being ridiculous.  I argued, but he reminded me that I'd said yes to his marriage proposal, and that as good as made me his wife.  "Wives don't have to pay their husbands back for buying them shoes, darling," he said with a silly grin.  "And if they do, it's usually not with cash so much as tongue."

The woman at the register whipped her head up and shot us a look.  I felt my ears going red as I took my shoes and thanked her, standing off to the side as Tom paid, still grinning and winking at me suggestively as I tried to ignore him.  I wanted to hit him in his stupid adorable laughing face, but the clerk wasn't impressed with us and our conversation, so I left to stand outside and waited for Tom to catch up to me.

A moment later he stepped out of the shop and sidled over to me, smacking me indiscreetly on the bottom as I turned to resume our stroll down the cobbled street.  

"Stop it," I warned him.  "I have shoes and I'm not afraid to use them."

"Is that right?" he challenged, stepping in front of me so that I bumped into him, moving first from one side then to the other to block me as I tried to get around him.  I started laughing and turned around to walk the other way, leaving him scrambling to catch up again.  He fell into stride beside me, giggling like a teenager on a date.  It was adorable and I was amazed, as always, at the ease with which he seemed so capable of warming my heart and putting me at ease.

"Hey," he said, taking my arm as his eyes fixed on a shop across the square.  "Lets go in there."  I looked over to see where he was pointing and saw the big familiar pink logo of a Victoria's Secret.

"Oh no."

"Oh _yes!"_  He was already dragging me off the sidewalk toward the other side of the square, despite me balking and pulling back.  "You need girly things, right?  What better place to get them?"

 

"Excuse me Miss, would you mind sending a clerk to the fitting rooms with an assortment of your finest?  She'll need a measuring tape because this one is being stubborn and refuses to tell me her sizes."

The saleswoman looked past Tom at me; I had my face buried in one hand, clutching my shoe box against my chest with the other.  

"Certainly, sir, I'll be more than happy to help.  I'll send Cynthia in as soon as you're settled."  She pointed toward the back and Tom flashed her his brightest, most charming smile.

"Thank you dear."  He turned to me and held his hand out, motioning toward the fitting rooms.  "After you, darling."  With a sigh of resignation, I gave in and headed for the back of the store, knowing this was going to be all kinds of a bad idea.

 

Tom relaxed on the settee in the middle of the fitting area, kicking back with a self satisfied look on his face as I surveyed the fancy room.  "This is much nicer than the one in Holly Square," I remarked, still clutching my shoebox to my chest.  "Usually there's just a curtain and a mirror, this one's got a - "  I gestured toward where Tom was sitting, watching me with an amused grin  " - a _sitty_ thing and all these mirrors and...oh god, you're going to watch me aren't you?"

He nodded.  "Ohh yes."

"Yeah, I thought as much."

He laughed a bright, sweet laugh.  "Sweetheart, are you really going to tell me you're still shy after all this time?"  I had wandered within his reach as I looked around the room and he put an arm out to grab me, pulling me toward him to stand me between his knees.  He took the shoebox from me and sat it on the settee next to him.  "Honestly?  After all the times we've made love...had sex...fucked in hotel rooms and taxi cabs and dark alleys and in front of cameras...you were a _body double_ for gods sake darling, the whole world is going to see you stark naked from tip to toe next October!"

I covered my face with my hands and groaned.  "Don't remind me."

His eyes shifted downward, raking over me without apology as he tugged at a beltloop on my jeans.  "My brave girl...I know you did that to pay for college and your surgery.  It took guts and I'm so proud of you." He reached up to pull my hands down from my face.  "Now man up and get out of those clothes so the clerk can measure you.  Sizing is different here than it is back home."

"Man up.  Funny.  You think you get to be a smartass because I'm wearing your boxers?"

He burst into laughter, so loud that I shushed him and put my hand over his mouth to quieten him down.  I really didn't want store security coming in to see what was so funny in the fitting room.  And it was true, I was wearing his boxers - I had been in my one and only pair of underwear for two days straight during our trip and had raided his underwear drawer that morning in a fit of desperation to have something clean that hadn't been slept in repeatedly. They were surprisingly comfortable and I was half tempted to skip the frilly lace nonsense of the store we were in and go to J Crew instead.

"Okay, okay," he conceded, licking my hand so that I would remove it from his mouth.  "But you do have to admit, gorgeous little woman like you in a pair of men's boxers - it's either gutwrenchingly funny or maddeningly sexy."  He eyed me up and down, a suggestive quirk raising his right eyebrow.  "Which would you rather I go with right now?"

I sighed and let go of him, moving just out of his reach so that he wouldn't get any ideas about yanking me down on the settee and having his way with me.  When I took my shirt off I saw his eyes move down to my stomach and I self consciously covered my scars with my hands; they were still red and angry and the lower half of my abdomen was still a bit swollen.  I started to turn away but he reached out and grabbed me again.  I always underestimated the amazing length of his reach.

"Hey," he said gently as he pulled me toward him again.  "Let me see those."  I resisted but he took me by my wrists and removed my hands from my stomach, replacing them with his lips as he slowly bent his head to me and kissed the marks, one at a time, holding me by the hips so that I couldn't move away from him.  His mood seemed to have shifted in the space of an instant from silly and amused to tender and caring as I looked down at him.  When he'd lightly kissed the third scar he looked up at me, his eyes full of kindness and love and maybe just a hint of amorous intent lurking on the fringes.  "So beautiful," he breathed against my skin, tickling me with his scruffy beard.  "These little marks here - "  he touched each one again, with his fingertip  " - these are proof of your bravery, and they're going to help us have a baby."

His words sent a shiver of warmth and surprise through me...this wasn't something we'd actually discussed yet, it had just always been there, waiting to be formally addressed, since the day he'd first teasingly asked if I thought I could handle ginger haired babies.  But now he was looking up at me with a sparkle in his eyes that was just a little bit brighter than I was used to seeing and a smile that was the tiniest bit more tender than usual.  I could read it in his expression, plainly and without fear of misunderstanding, that he was serious.

I sat down on his knee and wrapped my arms around his neck without him having to pull me down.  I didn't care if the clerk came in to measure me and interrupted us, I just wanted one quick moment to show him I loved him.  I nudged my face into his and made my way to his lips with my own, kissing him deeply, hearing him moan quietly as his hands squeezed my hips to pull me closer.  

Nipping his lip with my teeth, I broke the kiss quickly and slipped off his lap before he had a chance to grab me again.  "No fitting room sex for you, Mister Hiddleston," I scolded as I unfastened my jeans and dropped them.  "You get to suffer until we get home, like a good boy."

The clerk knocked and entered with her tape measure just as I was stepping out of my jeans, standing there in a pair of too-big men's boxers while Tom sat laughing on the settee.

 

_To be continued..._

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

 

 

 

"What did the rest of the messages say?  I know he sent more texts, I heard them coming in before you took my phone."

The expression that clouded Tom's face when he looked up from his script was perhaps his worst bit of acting ever - a stony mask of unflinching superiority, poorly fitted over a barely concealed underlying layer of dread and insecurity.  I knew where every facet of it originated...the stern exterior was to dissuade me from pursuing my question further, the superiority was to make me uncomfortable enough not to ask again if the first succeeded, the dread was that the first two would fail, and the insecurity was borne from his deep seated fear that he wouldn't ultimately be able to deal with the results of any of it.  But I didn't want him to dissuade me or carry the consequences for me if I chose to ignore his top layer warning.  I just wanted an answer.

The sound of my text notification going off, over and over and over until Tom had taken the phone from my hand and turned it off, still haunted me.  I had to consciously fight against panic every time he got a text on his own phone, until he realized what was happening and set it to vibrate.  I never thought I would get chills from something as innocuous as the little text chime on a cellphone, but it had joined the relatively short list of things that could make my blood run cold.  

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, sweetheart."  He turned his face away and for once his eyes didn't come quickly back to mine;  it was instantly obvious that he was trying to protect me from something really horrible.  He always looked at me, always.

"What did he say."

He shook his head, still looking everywhere but at me.  Bless his sweet soul, he always tried so hard to make things right for me, but I couldn't let this go.  I had run from Eric without confronting him, and it left a big seething gap that could only be covered over by some kind of closure.  But I knew I would have to fight Tom to get it.

"If you won't tell me yourself, then I want to see them."

"No.  I don't think you should, Anna."

"Don't tell me no.  I need to."

His head snapped up and he finally looked at me.  "Why?"  His eyes showed surprise at my demand while the set of his jaw showed anger at my defiance.  I immediately wished he hadn't pulled his stare from the floor.

"Because I just need to, Tom.  He chased me off and I ran like a coward, I need reinforcement that it was the right thing to do."

Shock and fury, now.  "What the fuck, Anna?  Like a _coward?_  Are you _fucking kidding me?!"_  He took a step toward me but stopped before he got close, keeping his uncertain mood well away from me.  "You didn't run, you _left._ You left to most likely save your own life, not to mention _mine."_

I stared at him, genuinely startled by his tone, flinching a little as his voice got louder.  But I was determined that this was going to happen, and I wasn't going to let his overprotective tendencies stop me.  "Give it to me, Tom."

He stared at me for a moment, then raked his hands through his hair and let out a long, deep sigh.  The anger was gone as quickly as it had flared up, replaced just as swiftly by resignation.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He just stood there for a long time, thinking, no doubt about how to change my mind.  But when he turned to look at me again and I held my hand out, I could see his expression acknowledging defeat.  He opened the top desk drawer and took the phone out, giving me one last questioning look to make sure I really wanted to do this.  I pushed my hand out again, silently demanding that he surrender it.  With a disbelieving shake of his head, he turned the phone on and handed it to me.  

"I turned it on a few days ago but they just kept coming in.  I doubt he's stopped yet."  He turned his back to me and I thought for a moment he would leave the room, but he stayed, staring out the window, hiding his face from me.

As soon as the phone powered on, the notifier started going off.  I fought back the panic that instantly rose in my stomach, setting my nervous system on alert.   _It's just a phone.  It can't hurt you._

How wrong I was.

 

_(9:27)  Did you really think I wouldn't find you, you stupid cunt?_

_(9:27)  Your picture's all over the web, sneaking out of that hotel with your fuckboy._

_(9:27)  What do you think is going to happen to you when he's finished fucking that little ass of yours?_

_(9:28)  He'll get as tired of you as I did._

_(9:29)  I know who he is.  Do you really think he wants you for anything more than your pussy and those dick sucking lips?_

_(9:29)  Don't delude yourself.  You make a pretty whore but what else do you have to offer?_

_(9:30)  Maybe he likes you for your barren cunt because he doesn't have to worry about knocking you up.  Finally your failure at being a woman is doing you some good._

 

"I wouldn't recommend reading any further,"  Tom said quietly, his voice firm and edged with barely contained contempt.  "It's just more of the same."

I laughed, a bitter little derisive sound that belied more sad disbelief than humor.  Seven messages in three minutes and in that short space of time he had managed to sum up the balance of my fears.  All my insecurities, wrapped up in a nice little package and handed to me with a razor blade smile.

I handed the phone back to Tom and he turned it off.

"How many more?"

He shrugged.  "Does it matter?  Dozens at least.  Hundreds, likely.  I stopped looking."

"Was there anything about you?" I asked, afraid of the answer.  I knew it would be yes, it wasn't in Eric's nature to leave an opportunity to abuse someone untouched and Tom was as fair game as I was.

"Oh there's plenty about me...most of it quite colorful.  My favorite by far though was the part about me being a nancy prettyboy who takes it up the ass while sucking the director's dick."  His laugh was every bit as humorless as mine.  "Apparently I go both ways."

"I meant...did he make any threats against you."

He glanced at me and then looked away again, answering my question without saying a word.  He realized it as soon as he did it.

"Yeah, he did.  But it's not anything you need to worry about, darling.  Nothing's going to happen."

 

I'd been living in Tom's house for a week but I still couldn't settle.  Leaving without ever even seeing Eric's face after he made it clear he'd seen mine was messing with my mind, and everything spooked me.  I had never told Tom that Eric was Irish and knew his way around London; I was fairly certain he'd even mentioned once having relatives here.  If he knew this was where we'd gone - and he would figure it out, it wasn't a difficult conclusion to draw - then I would spend the rest of my life continuing to look at every face in every crowd with a nervous dread, expecting to see him, never knowing if he was there until he stepped out in front of me with that chilling smile of his.

I was sitting in the kitchen late one night when Tom came in and switched on the light, standing in the doorway to look at me for a long moment before he came to the table and sat down across from me.

"Would you like some tea?"

I shook my head.  "Sorry if I woke you."

He reached across the table and put his hand over mine.  "You didn't wake me.  The empty space in my bed did."

We sat there in silence for a while, both of us knowing why we were there, neither of us wanting to start the discussion that we knew we would have to eventually have.  He scooted his chair around next to mine and put his forehead against my shoulder, sighing deeply before turning his face up to kiss my neck.

"I keep waking up and finding you wandering around the house, pacing, cleaning things that aren't dirty, straightening things that aren't messy, or sitting in here in the dark like you're waiting for something to happen."  He nuzzled his nose into my shoulder and planted a second kiss there.  "The anxiety is just radiating off of you, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no no...there's nothing to be sorry for, darling.  If anything, I feel like I should be apologizing to you.  I talked you into leaving so quickly.  I get the feeling you felt like your choices were taken away and now you feel powerless to deal with the consequences."

I turned my face to look at him and he lifted his head to meet my gaze.  "Consequences?"

He nodded, a pained look on his face.  "You're having a difficult time with your emotions.  I expected you to cry a lot more than you have, but you're just holding it all inside.  Eventually it's going to hurt you, Anna.  You have to let it out somehow."

"I know.  For some reason I just can't."

"You'd feel better if you did.  Would you like me to help?"  He raised his hand to my face and stroked my cheek with the backs of his fingers, gently, almost reverently as his eyes pleaded lovingly with me to cooperate.  "I can help you let it all out.  Give you an outlet.  You need a reason to cry, something to get it started that has nothing to do with him, to open the gate so that you can just let it all go."  He moved his hands down to the sides of my chair and scooted it a little, turning me toward him.  "Would you like me to spank you?"

My answer came much quicker than I expected, and by the look on his face, quicker than he expected, too.

"Yes.   _Please."_

He looked me in the eyes for a long, silent moment, then slowly nodded and reached up to press his palm to my cheek.

"I'll take care of you, sweet girl."

 

He sat on the edge of the bed in the guest room, me standing in front of him, his eyes intent on me as I stared at the floor.  We had agreed to certain things, things that would ensure this was kept within very strict limits.  We chose the guest room so that the bedroom we shared wouldn't carry any memory of what we were about to do.

He held his hand out to me and waited for me to take it.  He didn't say anything, just waited, and eventually I reached out and put my hand in his.  We wouldn't start until I was ready, and I had to say the words, specific words, before anything transpired.  He squeezed my hand gently and pulled it to his lips, kissing it softly.

"Whenever you're ready, sweetheart."  

I didn't look at him.  I didn't want to see his face yet, to see the sadness and concern in his eyes, nor the steely determination to help me that I knew would also be there.  We had agreed that I wouldn't do anything I didn't want to do; that included looking at him.  

"Do you remember your words?" he asked quietly.  I nodded - another thing we'd agreed to.  When I was ready to start, when I was ready to hand all control completely over to him, I would say my chosen word. And when I was ready to take control back, I had a second chosen word. Both would be obeyed by him, respected absolutely, with no exception.  I could nod and shake my head to answer him only until my start word had been spoken, and then everything had to be verbalized as yes or no so there could be no mistaken consent or lack thereof.

He was going to help me cry.  But first he was going to show me that I was loved and that nothing that was about to happen meant anything other than just that - that he loved me.

He ran his thumb slowly over the back of my hand, giving it a little tug.  "Would you like to sit on my lap, Anna?"

I moved slowly between his knees and let him guide me down onto his thigh; he settled me against his body and wrapped his long arms around me, cuddling me into his chest.  He just held me like that for a long time, rubbing his hand up and down my back, stroking my hair, soothing and relaxing me as best he could.  He and I both knew I was too tense for him to ever hope of being successful, but he had promised me that once we were done, I would be able to relax again.  I trusted him and believed he was telling me the truth.  I was just going to hand it all over to him and let him do his best to ease it for me.

I don't know how long I sat there in his embrace, feeling his heartbeat against me, his breath on my skin, his soft kisses warming my face, his gentle hands soothing my nerves.  It seemed like an eternity and a fleeting moment, bound together in some timeless void where nothing, _nothing_ mattered except this precise segment of existence.  His voice kept me grounded in the now, whispering encouragement and words of adoration, alternately emboldening me with bravery for what was to come and giving me the strength to open myself up to him completely.  I needed to rip open the place inside me where Eric was hiding, purge him and then cauterize the wound.  There was no way to do that until I'd given vent to my grief and anger and fear.

_Kick Eric out and let Tom in._

His hands were on my back, sliding gently up to my neck to rub soothingly and then caress their way back down.  Gentle hands that were going to instigate the purge.  I had to cry or I would never be okay, but I couldn't do it on my own, my emotions had corked themselves up so deeply inside my soul that they would never break free on their own.  I had no way of letting them make me cry.  The injury around them had scarred over too thickly for that.  

Tom was going to give me a reason to cry, to fling the door open wide so that everything locked up behind it could escape and be gone.  Finally gone.

"I promise you I will do this as lovingly as I possibly can," he had sworn to me.  We had made our rules, set our limits, agreed to what would and wouldn't happen.  

No sex.  Not even a suggestion of it.  This wasn't for sensual gratification, this was to serve a specific purpose and it wouldn't deviate from it. This was meant to hurt, with the intent to heal.  

He kissed my forehead while his fingers combed through my hair, easing the tension from my muscles with a slow, steady, relaxing tug.  I liked it when he pulled my hair.  It had been one of the things Eric did just to be mean, but when Tom did it, it made me shiver in all the right ways. Just like his domination, his sometimes forceful subjugation of me; done by Eric to make me fear him and keep me bent to his will, done by Tom to feed my desire to submit to a loving dominance.

They were like night and day.  Or, more precisely, heaven and hell.

 

_"Sunflower."_

My start word.

He didn't ask if I was sure.  He already knew I was - we'd left no room for mistakes.  It was never to be said unless there was no doubt in my mind that I was ready.  He wouldn't question my ability to know.

He slid his hand slowly up my back, stopping just below the base of my neck to gently urge me to my feet.  

"Stand up, sweetheart."

I did as I was told, rising to stand in front of him, between his knees.  He took both my hands in his and kissed them, then looked up at me.  "You know this isn't a punishment, don't you Anna."

"Yes."

"Good girl.  And you know that I love you, don't you."

"Yes."

He put my hands on his shoulders and reached out to take my hips, guiding me down.

"Across my lap, Anna.  There's a good girl.  Remember everything we've discussed."

I didn't hesitate even though I knew what was coming.  I needed this so badly that I was starting to crave the pain.  It was going to set me free. I'd solidly verified in my own mind that this was what I wanted - I knew I had to commit completely to it and let him dominate me, without question or resistance, becoming totally and thoroughly submissive to him.  Eric had forced this on me but Tom wasn't Eric...there would be no belittling, no insults or degrading names, and afterward there would be tenderness and loving care instead of me in a corner, crying alone.

I'd always known this was how Tom was - a caring Dominant.  I'd seen enough of it in Spain to be aware of this side of him, and now that we were on his territory, in his home, and he was completely and fully himself, there was no denying it.  But this wasn't all he was.  He didn't live in this mode.  It was something he slipped into when the mood suited him, and I'd seen enough of his other side as well to know that the sweet, eager, gently playful lover was him just as equally.  The two balanced each other out perfectly, a light and a dark side, both lending their qualities to make him who he was.  But perhaps most important was his ability and willingness to use this to _my_ complete advantage.  There was nothing in this for him other than the satisfaction of knowing he was helping me.

I let him guide me down across his lap, no resistance in me.  I wanted this.  This was how I was to show him that I would submit to him, and how he would show me that I belonged to him and he belonged to me, and that I could trust him to take care of me, of my needs, of everything. My submission was the gateway to leaving Eric behind for good.

"I want you to tell me how you feel, Anna."  His voice was soothing, a warm caress to my ears as his hand stroked slowly across my back.

"I...I don't know how I feel..."  I held onto his knee, my eyes closed.  His hand on my back was so relaxing, I felt like I could fall asleep here across his lap.  "I feel...nervous.  A little."

He kept stroking me, slowly, his hand warm and gentle as it traveled up and down my spine.  "Are you afraid because you know I'm going to hurt you?"

"No."  My answer came quickly, revealing its trueness.  I wasn't afraid of him.  He was going to inflict pain, yes, but it was a means to a very necessary end, and when it was done he would make it all better again.

"When you're ready for me to stop so you can rest, or if you need me to stop and comfort you, say your word.  Don't forget, darling.  It's very important that you remember."  He stopped rubbing my back and I felt him tap me lightly on the back of the neck.  "What's your stop word, Anna?  Say it to me."

"Dandelion."

His hand resumed its slow stroke down my spine.  "Good girl.  And if you start to cry, I'll stop, with or without the word.  That's all we need, darling...just your tears."  He leaned forward and kissed the back of my head.  "Are you ready?"

I clutched his leg and exhaled, readying myself.

"Yes."

"Give me your start word, please."

I paused for just a moment to swallow hard and bury my face against his knee.  "Sunflower."

In all this time he had never touched me below my waist; my breath caught in my throat and lingered there in dreadful anticipation when he finally moved his hand down to my bottom and slowly pulled my panties down.

 

I have no real recollection of when exactly he began, just a vivid memory of the rush of all consuming relief that flooded through me on the wings of stinging shock the moment his hand made first contact with my bare flesh.  I knew he was starting me slowly but my nerves were fraught to the point where the discomfort was intensified drastically from the very first blow.  I flinched, but didn't make a sound.

"Alright, Anna?"

It took me a moment, but I responded.   _"Yes."_

His hand rested against my stinging cheek, the warmth from his palm radiating into my skin.  He waited till the tension released from my shoulders, then hit me again.  And again.

I lost count of the blows after a few minutes.  But I didn't make a sound, even though the slaps were growing increasingly harder with the intention of coaxing my tears out.  

Tom stopped to let me rest, rubbing my back gently.

"Anna, you have to cry, sweetheart.  You've got to let it go."

I realized I'd been biting my tongue.   _"I'm trying."_

His voice was soft, nonthreatening as he caressed my lower back.  "Harder?"

I gripped his leg tighter, my arms wrapped around his knee, getting ready to brace myself for what was coming.

_"Yes."_

The pace changed, from a single blow every few seconds to what I could only label in my mind as a true, honest asswhipping.  Blow after blow, one right after another without any pause in between, all stingingly sharp and brutally hard.  I cried out repeatedly and began screaming as the spanking intensified, but still no tears.

He finally stopped for a moment and squeezed my shoulders gently.  "Cry, sweetheart.  You have to.  I won't stop until you do...but right now I want you to take a break and catch your breath.  Say your word."

I choked on a sob as my throat spasmed, but managed to mumble  _"Dandelion."_ My voice sounded small and pitiful and my frustration intensified when I heard myself.

Tom moved his hands away from my shoulders and asked if I wanted to sit up.  My bottom hurt so bad I couldn't imagine putting any of my weight on it, but tears were what we were shooting for, so I nodded and let him help me move off his knees.  I flinched and sucked in my breath as he sat me down on his thigh, situating me so that my weight was mostly on the back of my legs instead of my rear.  

"Do you need some water?" he asked, stroking my hair.  I shook my head and stared at my knees as he pulled me close, cuddling me against his chest again.  He didn't speak for a long while, just gave me comfort and soothing little kisses to the top of my head, then whispered that he loved me as he rocked me slowly back and forth.  In that moment I realized I'd never felt so loved and cared for in my entire life, not even as a child, not even with my mother or grandmother or anyone else.   _Ever._

"Sunflower," I said quietly.

He obeyed my command, putting his hand on the back of my neck to guide me as I stood and resumed my position across his lap.  He waited until I was comfortable, taking an extra moment to make sure I was okay when I flinched as my stomach on his thigh put pressure on my lower incisions.  I scooted forward and he opened his legs wider so that the scars carried none of my weight.

"I love you Anna," he said quietly as his hand moved slowly down to my bottom, rubbing in small circles, soothing the reddened flesh.  "I love you so much, my sweet girl.  Please cry for me...please, _please try."_

Something in his voice touched a nerve in me; maybe it was the sad, slightly anguished inflection when he said _please,_ or perhaps it was him telling me he loved me just as he was about to administer a spanking with the intention of hurting me enough to make me cry.  Whatever it was, I felt a lump come up in my throat before his hand ever even made contact.  And that was all it took to begin nudging open the floodgates.

Several hard slaps later I felt a cry rip from my throat that was followed by a hard, gasping sob.  Tom heard it too, and began encouraging me with praise in between spanks.

"There's my good girl...good, Anna...come on baby, let it go."

Another hard smack, so hard that I lost my breath for a moment.

"Come on sweetheart, you can do it."

Another.

"Let it go, baby.  Give me your tears."

I couldn't take any more, but I refused to use my stop word.  My whole body was trembling, the shock of each blow more traumatizing to my nervous system than the ones before; I felt my eyes begin to water, and then the horrible lump that had been blocking my airway and holding back my tears for so long suddenly gave way to a loud, wailing sob.  And then, finally, it started.

Tom immediately stopped and began rubbing my back, leaning over me to kiss the nape of my neck and whisper to me.  I heard him telling me how proud he was of me, and my quiet tears morphed quickly into loud, out of control crying that left me shaking and convulsing with violent sobs as all the stress, all the fear, all the anger and the despair and the sadness came pouring out of me at last.  He sat me up and pulled me swiftly up against him on his lap, holding me tight, rocking me gently and kissing my forehead.

"I love you Anna," he said to me over and over.  "I love you so so much, sweetheart...it's okay, baby, it's all going to be okay now.  I love you, brave girl..."

I sat on his lap and cried, I don't know for how long, but when my throat was sore and dry and my chest hurt from the heaving sobs that kept racking my body and I had quieted a bit, he stood up with me in his arms, cradled against his chest, and carried me out of the room.

 

 

_To be continued..._

 


	26. Chapter 26

 

 

He carried me to the bedroom and laid me down on the bed.  "Turn over on your tummy, sweetheart," he ordered gently, pulling the sheets up to cover me.  I heard him go into the bathroom and run the water for a few seconds, then he returned and I felt him settle onto the bed next to me.  "I'm going to put a cool cloth on your bottom, sweetheart - it'll soothe the sting a bit.  Are you okay with that?"

I nodded, my face buried in one of the pillows.  He lifted the sheet off me and gently laid the damp cloth over my rear; it stung like fire for a moment, then the coolness became soothing and I let my breath out, sighing with relief.  I was still crying but I had myself under control enough to be able to speak.

"Thank you," I said quietly, so quietly that I could barely even hear myself.  He leaned over and kissed my ear.

"You're welcome darling.  I'm going to go to the kitchen and get a leaf off that aloe plant you've been growing.  It's finally going to get to earn its keep."

I almost laughed - when I'd brought that scraggly aloe plant home from the open air market and started caring for it, this wasn't quite what I'd had in mind as far as its uses.  Tom was forever burning his knuckles on hot pans, so my intention had been to use it as a quick fix for the scalds and scrapes he was prone to.  I'd never imagined it would end up sacrificing some of its leaves to make my backside feel better after a spanking. Something about the mental image of Tom in the kitchen, gently plucking a frond off it while apologizing sincerely and telling the plant that its healing assistance was needed upstairs was just - unbearably sweet and ridiculously amusing.  I started to laugh but it morphed into tears again when I realized what he'd just done for me.

Something that up till this point had been used between us strictly for foreplay and sex had just had its purpose changed to fit a need. Something Tom _loved doing_ had been altered and administered, not as a fun, intimate way to let off sexual steam, but as a therapeutic stress relief.  I didn't know if we would ever be able to do this again the way we had before...he had quite possibly just given up something that he truly enjoyed, so that I could get better.  And he'd done it willingly, without hesitation.  It had been his idea.  He'd done this for me.

By the time he got back with the aloe leaf I was sobbing into the pillow, trying to drown the noise but failing miserably.  He didn't rush to my side and ask me what was wrong - he didn't need to.  He knew that once this floodgate was opened it wouldn't close again until all the stress was relieved, and the reasons behind any particular moment of my crying weren't important.  What _was_ important was that it was being released.  So he sat down beside me on the bed and just let me cry, gently rubbing the raw aloe gel onto the red, inflamed skin of my bottom, speaking to me quietly and soothingly the whole time.  I never even heard what he said, just the occasional word that found its way to my ears in between my noisy sobs.  Eventually I quieted a little to catch my breath and he brushed his fingers through my hair, moving the tangled mess away from my face.

"Would you like to come up here and lie on my chest, darling?"

I nodded, my chin doing that ridiculous quivering thing that happens when you're beyond self control.  He opened his arms and I moved up into them, curling into his chest, a fresh round of crying starting the moment he closed his arms around me.  I felt so safe and loved.

He held me for a long, long time...I wasn't even aware of how long it had been until his phone rang and the time flashed up on the screen.  He didn't answer it, even when they called back a few minutes later; he just held me, rocking me gently, until I was ready to stop crying. 

 

It was astounding how much better I felt after that catharsis.  It was like a floodgate had opened and all the negative emotions - fear, dread, sadness, anxiety, grief - they all rushed through the open gates and crashed in roaring waves against the rocks till they splashed themselves to nothingness.  I felt lighter, happier, and infinitely more hopeful that my life was finally going to take the turn I needed it to.  My life with Tom.  I wasn't thinking of myself as a single entity any more; now when I thought of myself, I thought of _us._  It felt good. 

The first followup for my procedure with my new doctor went well; the specialist gave me a clean bill of health and verified that I was healing properly, even though it was slower than normal.  He sat us down and asked if our intention was to try to get pregnant as soon as I was cleared. Tom looked at me, reaching over to put his hand on top of mine.  He didn't answer - he was waiting for me to say how I felt about it before he put in his opinion.  He had always said that when I was ready, the decision would be mine to make.  

I had been thinking about this, but I was no longer as sure as I had been previously.  Before, my intention had been to wait until my schooling was finished and I was working in some capacity in my chosen field, married, settled, and secure.  But things had changed the moment I'd left home, being dragged along by the hand behind Tom.  He had proposed marriage and I had accepted.  I still hadn't re-enrolled in school, though he had given me his laptop to take my online courses on.  Was I settled?  I was living in Tom's house, but it wasn't mine, regardless of what he so frequently said about it being my home now too.  I had nothing of my own here and it would be weeks before my things were shipped to me. I felt like I was in limbo.

And now here we were, sitting in a strange doctor's office, a good doctor no doubt, as Tom had made many calls to ensure that my records would be transferred to the best specialists he could get for me.  A doctor that was now looking intently at us and asking if we planned to try for a baby soon.

Did we?

"We're not really...settled...quite yet," I said quietly, embarrassed at the lack of conviction my voice gave away.  

Tom leaned forward, squeezing my hand.  "She only just arrived here a few weeks ago.  Once the jetlag and culture shock wears off we'll be able to give you a better idea of when."

Doctor Paige nodded like he understood.  "My feeling on the matter is that you'll be ready - physically - in another month, maybe six weeks depending on how that lower incision finishes healing.  After that you should be good to go...I don't see any reason medically why you shouldn't be able to conceive."

Tom turned to me and smiled, a warm, gentle smile as he squeezed my hand tighter.  I was shivering, my nerves suddenly tensed despite my feeling of disattachment from just a moment ago, the reality finally hitting home with the doctor's words as it dawned on me that my dream could finally actually come true.  If everything was healed properly, I could be a mother.  I felt like crying, but held it together and tried my best to return Tom's smile without breaking down.  He could feel my hand shaking and tightened his grip around my fingers.

"I'm going to start you on a hormone patch," Dr Paige continued.  "It functions like a smoker's patch, but it administers a steady dose of hormones into your system instead of nicotine.  You stick it on the back of your hip and you change it twice a day - it will get your hormones regulated quicker than just letting them adjust on their own.  In the meantime, continue using condoms.  An accidental conception while you're on this patch could be - well, not a good idea."

Tom nodded, paying close attention to every word.  I knew he was committing it all to memory and probably already had a couple of pamphlets in his pocket to memorize once we got home.  "So this patch she'll be wearing," he asked, his serious expression showing his deep interest in learning everything he could.  "Will you have a nurse show me how to apply it correctly?"

Doctor Paige and I both looked at him.  His eyebrows shot up like he was surprised at our reactions.  "What?  Back of the hip, right?  How are you meant to do that yourself?"

"I can do it," I protested.  "I've had this body a long time, I know my way around it."

"Yes darling, but wouldn't it be easier if I helped?"

I opened my mouth to argue but Doctor Paige stood up, trying to conceal an amused grin, and closed my file with a loud snap.  "I'll send the nurse in to get you fixed up.  Do either of you have any questions for me?"

We both shook our heads and Tom stood to shake his hand.  "Thank you doctor, we're very grateful that you were able to see us."  He looked back at me with a wistful expression in his eyes.  "And we'll have everything sorted by her next checkup."

 

The nurse came in with something that looked like a big square bandaid packet and set it on the table next to me as she went to wash her hands. Tom picked it up and was looking at it; I told him to put it down and stop playing with it but the nurse came back with a smile.  "It's not often we get husbands that are this interested in what's going on.  Most of them just want to get out of here."

Tom grinned, still messing with the patch.  "If you'll tell me how to do this I'd like to go ahead and try it now," he said.  "Is there a trick to it?"

The nurse motioned for me to come down from the table and I hopped down, using Tom's shoulder for support.  "If you'll give us a hip we'll get this on you.  Hubby here seems anxious."

Tom grinned smugly; he was loving all the references to being my husband.  I rolled my eyes at him and turned around to pull up the skirt of my sundress.

"It'll be easier for me to show him if you bend over the table, honey."

I obeyed, not thrilled about showing my butt - all I had on under my sundress was a little pair of panties and I knew Tom was going to enjoy this way too much.  I bent over and felt Tom lifting my skirt higher to expose my hip as the nurse gave him instructions.

"Pull the protective backing off it just like a bandaid, pick your spot and just slap it on.  It needs to be applied with some pressure so that it stays put."

Oh god.  Tom was gonna love this _way_ too much.

"Like this?"

He smacked me hard on the back of the hip, about halfway between my hipbone and buttcheek.  It stung and he rubbed the patch after he'd stuck it on, making sure the edges were adhered properly.

"Perfect!" the nurse praised him.  "You picked that up quick, I get the feeling you've done this before."

Tom snickered and I let my skirt fall, grimacing as I stood upright.  My skin felt tingly and burned a little where the patch was.

"Is it supposed to sting?"

"Yeah, it'll be a little uncomfortable.  That's the medication leeching into your skin.  Nothing to worry about, you'll get used to it.  And be sure to rub it every half hour or so, it helps the meds to filter out of the patch."

Tom winked at me lecherously.

"Any questions?"  We both shook our heads and Tom reached out to shake the nurse's hand; it was obvious she was just as charmed by him as everyone else on the planet and I rolled my eyes at how much he seemed to love making people adore him.

"I think we've got it, thank you so much for your help."

She smiled back at him and barely even cast me another glance as she left the room.  I rubbed my now-sore hip where the patch was and bent over to pick up my purse while Tom smoothed the skirt of my dress down, snickering to himself.

"This was the most entertaining doctor visit I think I've ever been to."

 

That night I climbed into bed and crawled up on Tom's chest as I was changing into my nightshirt; he was sitting propped up against the pillows, reading, and put aside his book to slide his hands down my back to my butt.  He stopped his left hand at my patch and rubbed it, grinning as I flinched.

"You know what I think is incredibly fucking sexy?"

"What?"

He slipped his finger into the top of my bra cup and tugged it down just enough for my nipple to pop out.

"That right there.  When we're screwing and you're still in your lacy black bra and it's pulled down so that your pretty little nipple is exposed.  Just that much, just barely."  His eyes darkened as he stared at my breast, his grin lustful and full of wicked intent.  "Will you do that for me tonight?  I know you don't like to wear a bra to bed...just while we're having sex.  That sexy black one in your drawer."

I raised an eyebrow at him, playing coy despite the suddenly unbearable heat growing between my legs, soaking my underwear.  "You're operating on the assumption that we'll _be_ having sex tonight."

His lustful stare shifted quickly to concern.  "Are you not feeling well?  The booklet that came with the patch says it could make you feel a bit nauseous - "

"I'm fine, I'm fine Tom...you and your booklets."

He looked at me like he wasn't sure if I was teasing him or not; I let him off the hook by kissing the middle of his chest and moving off him to go to the dresser.  I pulled open the drawer and looked back at him. His grin was returning.

"This one?" I asked, hooking my finger into the strap of the only other bra I owned now and twirling it around.  He had picked it out himself during our stop at Victoria's Secret.  The dark gaze had come back to his eyes and he nodded, his grin widening.

"That would be the one."

I turned my back to him and removed the plain bra I was wearing and put on the black lace, only letting him see me from the front once I was fully covered - if you could call what this bra did _covering._ The cups were thin and sheer and pretty much see-through with the only exception being the pattern of the lace.  An absolute example of frill over functionality.

"Gorgeous," he said under his breath, his hands going up behind his head so he could watch me.  "Put on the panties that match."

As I retrieved the little scrap of lace that called itself underwear from the drawer it suddenly occurred to me that the nervous feeling in my stomach probably wasn't the patch, but was in fact the realization that Tom and I were about to have sex for the first time since he'd spanked me.  It had been three days and I felt good - _really_ good - but he'd been exceptionally patient and considerate with me during the time since then and had not even flirted with me with sexual intent.  Knowing that we were about to resume intimate activities was actually making me nervous.

I tried to hide it and stepped out of my cotton undies, replacing them with the black lace that matched my bra.  Tom was still watching from the bed and I heard his breath catch when I bent over to pull them up.

"Absolutely beautiful, baby," he said quietly.  I heard him shifting on the bed and knew he would be sliding a hand down over his stomach to stroke himself through his sweats.  "Come here, please."

I turned and walked back to the bed where he was laying, one hand down the front of his pants, the other held out to me.  "Starting without me?"

"I wasn't sure if you wanted to participate."

I gave him a scolding look.  "I put on the whore lace didn't I?"

His mouth dropped open and he laughed in shocked surprise.  "Although that is actually a fair assessment of this - " he slipped his finger under the thin strap and let it slide along the fabric till it met my breast " - _ensemble,_ you know I don't like you to use that word in reference to yourself."  His expression shifted to serious and he moved his fingers to lift my chin, making me meet his gaze.  "Are you okay?"

I nodded, biting my lip.  When I had let go of all my negative emotions, the memory of our fight in the hotel in Spain had slipped from my mind along with everything else that made me unhappy.  But Tom hadn't forgotten it.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way."

The broad smile returned to his face and he didn't say another word about it; his fingers left my chin and moved down to my breast, hooking under the thin lace, tugging it down till my nipple was exposed. "There it is," he grinned, moving his other hand around my back to pull me close enough to kiss it.  "I've been waiting for this."

 

He eased me gently into full arousal, pleased to find that I was already wet but tsk'ing with disapproval when he tried to slip a finger into me and found me still tense and tight.  "That won't do darling, that won't do at all," he scolded teasingly, slipping his hand into his sweats to pull his cock out and let it rub against me.  "How'm I supposed to fit when you're so tensed?"

I tilted my hips up so that the hard heat of him was pressed more solidly between my legs as he lowered his head to my breast and took my nipple into his mouth, nudging the lace further down with his chin.  He sucked at it, gently at first, then with more interest and intensity.  I could feel it hardening between his lips as he teased and tugged at me.  "Does that feel good, sweetheart?" he murmured against my skin, nipping and licking and exhaling his warm breath onto me.

"Oh god yesss," I moaned in approval.  His lips curled into a smile that I could feel on my skin as his forefinger slipped its way into the other cup, pulling it down just far enough so that that nipple was exposed as well.  The rough palm of his hand rubbed tantalizingly over it, teasing it into arousal.

"Spread your legs darling," he ordered gently, with that edge of dominance that he somehow always mixed in so well.  It was the kind of order that you knew you could disobey if you truly wanted to, but in itself it made you feel as if obeying was the thing you wanted most.  I opened my legs further and he settled himself in between them, his hips nestled securely between my thighs, my feet coming up to press into the backs of his knees as my arms went round his neck to rest on his shoulders.  I felt his cock twitch against me, then it was pushing urgently against my opening. His breath caught, and I realized I was holding mine.  "It's okay baby," he reassured me through soft kisses that interrupted his words. "I won't push in until you're ready for me."  

I arched my back and stretched out under him; he took the opportunity to kiss my exposed throat, whispering against it, his hands moving over my body, his elbows and thighs holding most of his weight off me until he sensed I felt secure enough for him to lower himself completely onto me. I felt the air pushing out of my lungs as my body took the pressure of his.

"I'm ready," I whispered hoarsely against his ear, his soft gingery blonde curls tickling my lips.  I pushed my hips upward again and he pushed down, his rigid cock entering me in a swift move that took my breath away.  But it didn't hurt.  For the first time in a very long time, possibly _ever,_ there was no pain at all - no stinging burn as he filled and stretched me, no dull ache that made me gnaw my lip to keep from crying out. He slipped in easily and filled me satisfyingly and my body let him.  It took me so completely by surprise that I gasped.

Tom jerked his head up and looked into my eyes, alarmed, but when he didn't see any distress in my expression he cocked his eyebrow in confusion.

"Are you okay sweetheart?" he asked quietly, holding himself completely still inside me.

I nodded, feeling a smile edging its way across my face.  "It didn't hurt."

He stared at me for a long moment, then a grin covered his face as well.

"Good, baby," was all he said, but as he began moving slowly within the warmth of my body, I could feel a difference in him as well.  The taut muscles in his back were more relaxed, his hips less rigid, and I knew he felt more at ease knowing he wasn't causing me pain.  He'd always known, even when I told him I was okay.  I was completely relaxed under him, for the first time ever, and it felt incredible.

 

Our sex had always been great, often venturing into the realm of mindblowing, but now, without the tension of discomfort taking away from my enjoyment, it took on a whole new level of perfection.  I was able to concentrate completely and without distraction on the pleasure he was giving me, with a newfound ability to pay close attention to him as well.  I noticed how his eyes shut so tightly that his eyelids crinkled, how his mouth fell open every time I clenched my muscles on him, how he rubbed his belly against mine when he thrust upwards, all things I had always seen him do but had never been able to pay close attention to because I was distracted. Now I watched him and saw the intense pleasure in his face, the concentration etching his brow, the effort tensing the strong muscles in his chest and upper arms.  The way he opened his eyes and looked intently at me until I met his gaze, the little smile that pulled up the corners of his mouth when I did.  And I watched him when he came, noticing for the first time the mixture of joy and euphoria and delicious pain that made his entire face a mask of expressionless beauty for a few brief seconds as he hit his peak.  Only after that, when he was coming down from the pinnacle of his climax, did he clench his jaw and his face balanced for a moment between fierce determination and blissful acceptance.  It was beautiful and all I could do was watch in rapt fascination until finally, breathless and panting, he opened his eyes again and saw me staring at him.

He didn't say anything, though for a moment he seemed mildly confused that I was so calm.  I had come early, much quicker than usual, and had spent the rest of the time just enjoying the heightened sensations that this new awareness was affording me.  Everything was suddenly within my realm of notice.  The size of him, deep inside me, rubbing against me inside and out, setting all my nerve endings on fire till they throbbed and pulsed with a delicious sensitivity that only switched on with his touch.  The feel of his hands on my body, warm and strong, urgent and insistent in their tugs and rubs but gentle and soothing in their strokes and caresses.  The sound of his voice, so deep and smooth, relaxing me with sweet sounds that made me feel loved, alternated with dirty words that aroused my prurient desires.  Now that it was no longer overshadowed by discomfort, this new sensitivity to all these things was almost unbearably sweet and overpowering.

I could still feel the little electrical shocks tugging at my muscles, making me twitch inwardly, hugging him warmly where we were joined.  He had moaned repeatedly as the little jolts jerked through me, stimulating his cock, and the sound coming from his throat had given me the overwhelming urge to hug him closely, so tightly that when he lifted up off me to thrust again he picked me up with him.  My legs were wrapped around his back and I laughed when I found myself completely off the bed, suspended beneath him.  "Silly girl," he had whispered hotly against my ear, but with a definite softness to his voice.  He knew as well as I did that things were different now.  

And when it was over and I was nestled securely into the crook of his arm, my face pressed to his neck and my leg draped carelessly across his stomach while he lazily stroked my calf with his fingertips, we both tried for a moment to find the words to say.  But neither of us could find them, so we just held each other till we fell asleep, content and happy and completely satisfied.

 

The first of Tom's red carpet events was quickly approaching and my dread at making my first official public appearance at his side had faded into a state of semi-excited giddiness.  Luke had made some calls and we were invited to the Valentino showroom with an invitation for me to debut one of their gowns at the event.  It seemed surreal, standing in their ornately gilded fitting room with professional seamstresses nipping and tucking the gorgeous work of art onto my body, making it fit me perfectly, as if it had been made for me.  Tom sat on a ridiculously plush sofa in the corner watching with pride while I made faces and obeyed the artisans, turning and bending and raising my arms in imitation of the postures they said I would be using while wearing their creation.  I laughed and told them I seriously doubted that I would be bowing, spinning, or curtsying, but the elder supervisor just said, "You'd be surprised what you might end up doing in this dress, darling."

Tom nearly choked.

 

We stopped on our way home to eat at an outdoor bistro and enjoy the cool weather for a bit.  Tom was feeling especially lighthearted after watching me get fitted for the gown I would wear to his charity event...he knew how hard it was for me to commit to even going, much less walking the red carpet with him.  But I had told him I would do it, and now it was official - there was a gorgeous gown having its finishing touches put on for me, to be picked up in two days.  He was still grinning and after he ordered our food for us he scooted his chair around the little metal table so that it was close to mine.

I felt his hand on my knee, moving just slightly up my thigh till his fingers nudged up under the hem of my sundress.  He leaned in close till his lips were just barely brushing my earlobe.

"May !?" he whispered, his fingers tickling the inside of my thigh, moving slowly toward my crotch.  "It's always been something of a fantasy of mine."

I knew what he was asking, and though my first emotional response was to tell him no, absolutely not...my physical response overrode it so quickly that it took me by surprise.  My thighs opened without me giving it a moment's thought and he hesitated, waiting for me to confirm verbally that it was okay for him to continue.

"Do it quick," I murmured, shocked at how husky and aroused my voice sounded to my own ears.  "And don't you dare even think about stroking me or I'll make sure you end up having to pay for that dress."

He chuckled, doing that cute thing with his tongue between his teeth that I found so adorable and childlike.  "A Valentino original - I guess I'd better mind my manners because I'd have to work till I'm ninety to even make the down payment."  He scooted a little closer, his stubbly chin scratching against my jaw as he kissed me, then he turned his attention to the dessert menu as his hand slid all the way up my thigh and his fingertips nudged the crotch of my panties aside.  I sucked in my breath in surprise, glancing around quickly to see if anyone noticed what was going on under our table.  Nobody seemed to even know we were there, absorbed in their own dinners and conversations.

"This looks delicious," Tom remarked in a perfectly level, nonchalantly controlled voice as he slowly pushed his fingers into my folds.  "I have a weakness for whipped cream."  He turned the menu so I could see the fluffy confection he was referring to, but all I could see was a blurry cloudlike thing with chocolate drizzles through my sudden haze of arousal.  This was completely unlike me.  I felt one finger slip inside me and pump in and out slowly, joined a few moments later by a second, and in that moment all I wanted, all I cared about, was for him to continue this gorgeous torment.

 _"Oh god don't stop,"_ I whispered with an agonized groan behind my hand, feeling my wetness seeping out around his fingers as he pushed them in further.  But just as quickly as he'd invaded me, he withdrew.  I whimpered as he pulled his hand out from under the table and slowly, absently dipped his fingers, slick and wet with my juices, into his drink.  He winked at me as he raised the glass to his lips and took a long slow swallow, obviously enjoying the state he'd been able to reduce me to with just two fingers and no more than thirty seconds of physical contact.

"Maybe we should get our food to go, darling."

I was barely able to control my breathing enough to respond, so I just nodded enthusiastically.  He grinned a wicked little grin, cluing me in to the fact that he'd planned this all along.  Raising his hand as he turned around to catch the server's attention, his voice had a heavy inflection of unmistakable amusement as he called out, "Excuse me, waitress?"

 

_To be continued..._

 

 

 


	27. Chapter 27

 

 

Walking the red carpet was every bit as terrifying as I'd ever imagined, but I held tightly to Tom's hand and stayed beside him, not letting myself fall behind, not lagging at his back, my head up and smiling like he'd told me to do.  "Just remember that they're fascinated with you," he encouraged me in the car on the way to the venue.  "They've heard about you, they've seen a glimpse of you, now you're presenting yourself to them and they want to see you in all your glory.  So give them what they want.   _Glory."_

I kept repeating it to myself, over and over as we made our way from the car to the building, stopping at the photographers' section for official photos and again at the visitors' partition so Tom could sign autographs and take selfies with fans.  In between the two, we waved and smiled and held hands, or he pulled me up against his side to wrap an arm around me as the cameras blinded us from all sides.  

_Glory.  Give them glory._

I smiled as genuinely as I could, but there's just no getting used to the screaming crowds and flashing lights on your first time out.  Tom grinned encouragingly at me and kissed my hand to let me know I was doing well, which prompted such an overwhelming blast of camera flashes that he muttered _"Holy shit"_ as the carpet coordinator began waving us to the reporters' alcove.

"Time to shine, darling," he said to me with a grin.  "By the way, in case I haven't told you yet - you look absolutely incredible."

He had indeed told me, about a thousand times on the way over and at least five more times since we'd emerged from the car.  But one more certainly didn't hurt.

We were separated for several minutes while he did a series of short interviews with various reporters.  I stood to the side with one of the security men standing next to me until an ET reporter leaned across the barricade and asked if I was Anna Black.  I nodded and she asked if she could ask me some questions.  Panicked, I looked around quickly for Tom and saw him about twenty feet away with his back to me, engrossed in conversation with someone from EW; not knowing what else to do, I nodded and the reporter told her cameraman to start filming.

_Who are you wearing?_

_We've heard a rumor that you and Tom Hiddleston are engaged.  Do you have a date set?_

_Is it true you met on the set of Crimson Peak?_

_Are you in that movie?_

I answered everything, keeping my smile in place, remembering that Tom was nearby.

_This is from the 2015 Valentino Summer line, they were gracious enough to ask me to premiere it at this event for them._

_You'll have to ask Tom about that, the only date I know of is tonight and he'd better buy me ice cream on the way home._

_We did meet on Crimson Peak, yes - I had a behind-the-scenes job that required us to work together for several weeks._

_I can be seen briefly in the movie, yes, but you won't know it's me._

The reporter smiled and thanked me, shaking my hand enthusiastically, apparently pleased with her big scoop.  As far as I knew, I hadn't revealed anything vital or even remotely important - just enough to get me through the interview, and although I admitted to being Tom's date for the night, anyone with eyes could see as much for themselves without being told.  Even more so when he came up beside me and took me by the elbow, smiling warmly as he escorted me on into the building.

"Look at you, talking to strangers when my back is turned!" he chided me playfully, squeezing me affectionately once we were inside.  The entire atmosphere was different now - no reporters, no interviewers, no cameras and no screaming fans.  Just orchestra music and the soft lull of polite conversation punctuated by the clink of champagne glasses raised in toast.  We were immediately approached by various important looking people who knew Tom, all of whom were politely excited to meet me, and though this wasn't exactly my kind of gathering, I felt at ease.

Tom was impressive as always, gliding among the elite, belonging there every bit as much as he belonged at the corner bistro drinking coffee and reading the newspaper.  Always the chameleon, always transitioning effortlessly into whatever he was needed to be.  And I moved through the ranks beside him, fitting in by proxy.  It felt like cheating, but nobody gave me a second glance, a hive mind acting as if I was one of them.  

_I wonder if they would accept me so readily if they knew what my job on that set really was._

I giggled to myself and Tom flashed me a smile.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself, darling.  Should I be concerned?"

I gave him a coy grin and looked around, spotting a tuxedoed waiter with a tray of crystal glasses.  "I'd like some champagne," I said, ignoring his question and pretending that I didn't notice the raised eyebrow my request earned.

"But your medications - "

"Just one," I said, cutting him off.  "I made it through the gauntlet out there and I did an interview all by myself.  I've earned one glass of champagne."

His look betrayed the surprise he obviously felt at this sudden shift in my disposition.  All day I'd been nervous and uneasy, dreading this event, and twice he had told me that he wouldn't be disappointed with me if I decided I couldn't do it.  And now here I was, in a Valentino gown, feeling brave enough to clink glasses with people I'd never met and giving red carpet interviews.  Granted, it was just one, and only four questions at that - but I'd done it.  I felt proud of myself.  And by the enormous smile spreading across Tom's face, I could tell he was proud of me too.

 

After my glass of champagne, I was suddenly hit with the overwhelming need to pee.  My bladder still wasn't quite up to par yet and it was never more than ten minutes in between swallowing anything liquid and having to cross my legs frantically.  I tugged at Tom's arm and he excused himself from his conversation with two other well-dressed gentlemen and let me lead him away from the crowd.  He gave me a concerned look until I told him what my problem was, then he smiled reassuringly and patted my hand.  Looking around, he caught the attention of a very finely dressed woman who gave him a wide smile of recognition as she made her way to us through the crowd.

"Thomas William Hiddleston, so good to see you here!"  She extended her hand grandly and Tom took it, bowing slightly to kiss the back of her elegantly manicured fingers.

"Wonderful to see you too, madame chairman - excuse me but, she needs the ladies'...do you happen to know which way it is?"

The woman looked at me and gave me a broad smile not unlike the one she'd graced Tom with.  "Actually no I don't, and I could use a stop there myself now that I think about it."  She held her hand out to me, wiggling her fingers.  "Come on, let's go find it.  Stay around this general vicinity Thomas, I'll bring her back in a bit."

I allowed her to lead me away, looking back at Tom over my shoulder.  He shrugged, like he was saying _Sorry, I didn't know she was going to do that._

Once we found the restroom and the big, ornately carved door closed behind us, she moved to the vanity mirrors that lined the entire wall and started adjusting the bodice of her elaborate gown.  She looked at me in the mirror as I was glancing around for the stalls and fixed a piercing stare on me.

"So - you've snagged the marvelous Mister Hiddleston.  Tell me, is he a tiger in bed, or does he whimper like a kitten when he comes?"

I stared at her in shock, my mouth gaping.  "Wha - ?"

"Oh come on darling, don't you know he belongs to the world?  We're entitled to a bit of juicy info from time to time...although it's starting to look like maybe he doesn't belong to the world so much anymore as he does to you."  She narrowed her eyes.  "How'd you manage that?"

She was looking me over, putting no effort into concealing the fact that she was somewhat surprised by what she saw.  Never in my life have I felt less beautiful, less intelligent, less attractive and less worthwhile than in that moment, with her eyes raking over me judgmentally, searching for anything that might have caught Tom's eye.  It was obvious she wasn't finding anything that fit her criteria.  But as the look on her elegant, perfectly made up face fell into confusion and disapproval, I realized one vital thing.  For all her beauty and grace and poise and glamour, she'd never even gotten close to him.  She was asking  _me_  what he was like in bed, revealing the fact that _she'd never been there._  And it was obvious she wished she had.

But I had.  I was in his bed every night, hell I'd even kicked him out of it a few times and he always came back.  I knew that he was both a tiger and a kitten.  She didn't.

"I made a sex tape with him," I said, loud and proud so that everyone in the spacious, fancy restroom could hear.  "It should be leaked in October, feel free to Google it and decide for yourself what caught his eye." And then, since she was my escort back through the cavernous building that I didn't know my way around, I smiled sweetly to mask my venom.  "Don't leave, I've gotta pee."

 

I didn't tell Tom what happened in the ladies room.  He didn't need to know he'd handed me unwittingly to someone intent on abusing my self confidence.  Because she hadn't succeeded, and I was proud of myself for that - it was a small victory that I'd achieved all on my own, a notch on my belt to go right next to the one I'd earned with the solo interview outside.  I was starting to rack them up.  As we made our way through the crowd of beautiful, famous people, I held onto his arm but not too tightly - I no longer felt like I would be lost in a world I didn't belong in if I accidentally let go.  I knew if I did let go, he would simply turn around and hold his hand out to me till I took it again.  

 

That night, after the ceremony and the party and the copiously flowing champagne, we fell onto the bed in our fancy clothes, too tired to bother changing out of them.  Tom reached over and squeezed my hand, and when I turned my head to look at him I saw him smiling broadly at me.

"You were magnificent tonight, darling," he said, beaming.  "You outshone every other woman there.  And you handled it all with far more grace than I expected under the circumstances."  He pulled my hand up to his lips and kissed my fingers.  "Although I don't know why I expected anything less from you...you surprise me more and more every day."

I turned over on my side to face him and slid my hand slowly down his chest to his stomach, letting my fingers play with his zipper for a moment as his eyes shifted to the darker shade that always indicated arousal.  He was quick and easy to trigger, I always knew I could count on his gaze to darken the moment I implied anything sexual.  I edged his zipper down just a tiny bit, letting my finger nudge into the opening.  He wasn't wearing underwear.  But neither was I, so I couldn't fault him.  I finally knew why he went commando - when I'd been trying on my dress, my eyes kept going straight to my pantie lines, and no matter how gorgeous the rest of me looked that was all I could focus on.  The same had to apply to his underwear and his tightly fitted tuxedo trousers, I supposed.  Nobody wants to walk the red carpet with everyone's eyes going down to their boxer lines.

Besides, it gave me immediate access to his naked skin, and that was all I wanted to feel right at that moment.  He reached down to open his zipper the rest of the way but I stopped him, pushing his hand away, doing it myself while he watched me;  I slipped my hand inside and felt him begin to stiffen, the soft flesh becoming hard in my hand.  He'd accused my vagina of being black magic because it could stretch to accommodate his girth, but if there was anything mystical in this world, it was the way his cock stood to attention with just the slightest bit of provocation.

He sighed deeply as I unbuttoned his fly and released him from the suddenly too-tight confines of his trousers, then groaned with disappointment when I moved off the bed.  "Shhh," I hushed him, standing between his knees beside the bed.  "Valentino was gracious enough to loan me this dress, I refuse to return it with mystery stains on it."  He laughed and sat up to slide his arms around my hips, pressing his face against my stomach.

"Yes, that would be a bit rude, wouldn't it?"

His hands slid up my back to my zipper, easing it down, watching intently as the delicate dress slipped off my shoulders and down to my waist, finally pooling at my feet in a pile of pale pink silk.  I stepped out of it and tried to pull out of his grasp to pick it up and move it to a safer location, but he wouldn't let me go.

"Tom, let me get this off the floor, I don't want it getting messed up - "

"I'll mess _you_ up, young lady," he snarled, keeping his grip tight around my back, tugging me down onto his knee.  I stopped struggling and let him have his way, glancing down at the Valentino on the floor and grimacing.  Maybe if I was careful I could hop out of bed immediately after he was done with me and hang it up before it got too wrinkled, or worse, stepped on.  I could just imagine Tom tossing a used condom over the edge of the bed right into the middle of the silk and pearls.  The elder seamstress matron would definitely have a disapproving scowl for me.

I couldn't worry about it anymore because Tom was working his fingers into the tightly closed crevice between my thighs.  My legs were clenched together with all my might and he was laughing a little as he tried to wedge his fingers in.  "Oh come on baby, let me in there, I've been waiting for this all bloody night and now the gates to heaven are locked."  He wriggled his long fingers in, barely getting anywhere. "Fucking hell you've got strong thighs."

"You have such a nasty mouth Thomas Hiddleston!"

"Yeah and you know you want this nasty mouth buried between your legs, so spread them!"

I put my hands on his shoulders and locked my elbows, holding him at arms length.  "And if I say no?"

Both his eyebrows shot up in surprise and he looked at me, his mouth half open, not sure if I was serious or kidding around.  But he immediately respected what he obviously assumed was about to be a request to stop.  His hands moved to the neutral space of my knees and the aggressive tone in his voice shifted as he looked me intently in the eyes and said, "Then no it is."

I couldn't resist breaking into a smile, which confused him even more.  "Can I just say," I started, unlocking my elbows and letting my arms drape over his shoulders in a more relaxed posture, "that I feel _so damn good_ right now."  He lowered one brow but left the other one up, waiting for me to elaborate.  "I talked to those people.  I got split up from you and I didn't freak out when someone started asking me questions. I posed for pictures and I wore a freaking _Valentino dress with eight thousand pearls on it_ and I peed with the chairwoman of the board of trustees."  

He was breaking into a wide grin as he listened to me.

"And I am going to get off your lap right now and pick up that dress because I refuse to face that stern old woman and tell her that the spots all over the back are Tom Hiddleston's jizz - and you're going to let me, because right now I'm the boss and you're secure enough in your sexuality not to feel threatened by that.  And you know that if you let me have my way, you might just be able to talk me into pretty much anything for the rest of the night."

He was leaning back now, his face twisted into a barely contained outburst of laughter that he was obviously having a hard time holding back. He nodded and licked his lips, clearing his throat before raising his hands in a "go right ahead" gesture.  I wriggled off his lap and picked up the dress, laying it neatly over the arm of the bedside chair before I retrieved its special satin hanger from the closet.  Tom watched me with an amused but approving grin as I hung it carefully on the back of the closet door, smoothing the protective garment bag over it and zipping it shut.  

"There.  That wasn't so awful, was it?"

He shook his head, nibbling his lower lip.  "Not at all.  Especially since you're naked.  With the exception of - "  He pointed at the general vicinity of my chest " - your boob tape."

I looked down and started giggling.  The dressing assistant at the Valentino showroom had taken me in the back when we went to pick up the dress that afternoon and used a special type of tape to keep my breasts from slipping out of the dress, since I couldn't wear a bra under it.  It was still stuck all over my chest.

"Yeah, it seems I'm the boss of everything right now except my boobs."  I sat down in the chair and started pulling off the tape.  My little high was beginning to wear off.  "I miss my stuff."

"What?"

"My things.  My stuff back home.  I don't have anything."  I looked up at the dress, hanging on the back of the closet door.  Packing it up had just reminded me that I had absolutely nothing of my own, save for the few things I had allowed Tom to buy for me.  A few items of clothing and my Kindle. 

"Oh sweetheart...they're packing up your things next week, it'll take a few days and then they'll be on their way to you."

"I know.  That feels weird.  Feels kinda bad, not having any control over any of it.  Someone else will be in my house packing up my stuff."

"But they're going by the list you sent them.  You're in control of it."

I shook my head.  I knew he was getting what I was saying, he was just trying to keep me from being upset.  He held his hand out to me.

"How about I give you a situation that you can be completely, one hundred percent in control of.  Would you like that?"

I nodded, looking at him with curiosity.  The look on his face wasn't giving anything away as he stood up and let his hands drop to his sides. "This is the one and only order I'm going to give."  He gave me a half grin, obviously trying to keep from looking too eager.   _"Dominate me."_

 

"You can speak."

He smiled.  "Thank you."

I circled slowly around him, unbuttoning his shirt and then moving behind him to slide it off his shoulders, watching his bare back come into view.  "I want you to talk to me."

"What would you like me to say?"

"Tell me how everything makes you feel."  I lightly scratched my fingernails down his back, not hard enough to leave marks, but enough to make him arch his back the tiniest bit.

 _"Mmmmm_...that feels nice.  Could you do it again?"

"Are you allowed to make requests?"

"Only if you wish to allow it.  Forgive me, I tend to be a bit of an Oliver Twist when I like something."

I giggled.  "Say it."

He turned his face to look at me over his shoulder.   _"More please."_

I obliged, running my nails over his skin again, feeling a jolt of excitement run through me when he shivered.  He'd always been the one to pull reactions out of me.  Now he was letting me be the instigator of his pleasure.

But first I was going to push my luck just a bit. 

"I want to read the rest of the texts from Eric."

His back went rigid for a moment, then he turned his head to the side again.  "I don't think you should."

"Isn't that my decision to make?"

A pause.

"Yes, it is."

"Then I want to read them."

He sighed, letting his head drop, then slowly nodding.

"Alright.  Your phone is in the library desk.  But I really don't recommend it."

I pressed up against him from behind, sliding my hands up under his arms to rub slowly over his bare chest.  "Thank you," I whispered against his naked shoulder.  "I just needed to hear you say I could."

 

He let me do as I pleased with him, telling him what to do, watching as he removed his pants at my command, making him stand still as I touched him all over.  I reminded him that he could speak and he wasted no time in telling me how much he enjoyed my touch, how it made him hard when I trailed my tongue up the center of his stomach, how my fingers gliding down his spine to the curve of his ass made his belly muscles clench up.  Since he was so forthcoming with his confessions, I thought it would be fun to play a game of questions with him while he was under my control.

"What does it feel like when you get an erection?" I asked, standing in front of him with his cock in my hand.  It was half stiff and I could feel it twitch against my palm, straining to reach someplace soft and warm. His eyes were closed and his head had dropped back.

"It feels like...like a sudden awareness...it's much more sensitive suddenly.  It's tight and aches and throbs with a pulse...you can feel your heart beating in it."  He raised his head and looked at me through hooded eyes.  "Does your clit feel like that when you're aroused?"

I gave him a little stroke, loving the way he hissed through his teeth and thrust his hips forward.  "The sudden awareness and the increased sensitivity, yes...and it aches and throbs if you touch it...I think the overall effect might be a little more - _delicate,_ perhaps."

He watched me as I pressed my lips to his chest and kissed my way to his left nipple.  "And this?  How does this feel?"  I licked him, blowing across his damp skin, watching as his nipple hardened.  I pressed my open mouth over it and sucked it, listening to the groan that rumbled in his chest, feeling my own arousal starting to slicken my thighs.

"It feels good," he said with effort, his voice sounding strained.  "I'm not sure if it's the actual sensation so much as the fact that you're doing it."

I looked up at him, letting my tongue continue teasing him.  "So it's the intimacy of me putting my mouth on you?"

He nodded.  "I think so.  And it does feel pretty damn good."

I nibbled at him, enjoying how the hard little pinkish brown nub stiffened between my teeth.  His hands were clenching into fists at his sides. "Yours are sensitive, aren't they?  They always seem to be hard."

"Mnn hmm."

I grinned.  "Losing your words already?  So soon?  I thought I would at least make it to your gorgeous backside before you went mute."

He stiffened a little more, his cock rising to brush against my thigh as I licked and kissed my way across his chest.  I slid my hand up to give his right nipple a little pinch and watched with interest as he shut his eyes tight, his eyelids scrunching.  I got the distinct impression that neither of us was going to last much longer...where we had been exhausted just a little while ago, our bodies had taken over and dragged us into a state of desire that was quickly overriding everything else.  But I wanted to play with him a little more.  This new control thing was exhilarating, even more so when paired with my new found self confidence.  I felt alive and, for the first time in god knew how long, _not scared of anything._

I moved around behind him and felt a twinge of intense arousal in my lower belly when he flinched at my touch.  His skin felt hot and I could feel the muscles tensing beneath it as I slid my palms across his shoulders and down his back, letting my fingers tease the little dimples just above where his back curved outward to his butt.  I loved this part of his body - most tall, slim men are sadly lacking in curvaceous backsides, but Tom's ass was shapely and gorgeous and my heart always skipped just a little when I caught a glimpse of it.  Especially this bit.  I bent over and pressed my mouth to the gentle slope and let my tongue glide downward over his left cheek, stopping finally when I reached the crease where his thigh met his body.  My hands slid down to grip his thighs - my second favorite part, so strong and thick with muscles - and I gave him a little nip, pinching the sensitive skin of his lower buttcheek between my teeth.  The little sound that caught in his throat was immensely satisfying and I pulled him back toward me, giving him a slightly harder bite.

 _"Fuck,"_ he whispered huskily, his voice betraying just how much he was enjoying this new level of attention.

I slipped my hands around to his front and fondled his cock with one, lifting his testicles gently with the other.  He was trembling now and as my lips slowly kissed across that dip of his lower back, I could feel his self control slipping.  I wasn't going to be the boss here for much longer...but that was okay with me.  He had let me have this much, it was enough.  

"How does this feel?" I whispered.  

All he could manage was a raspy, _"Fucking hell, baby..."_

 

When I stroked the shaft of his cock slowly, teasingly, working my way to the swollen weeping head as I sucked a lovebite into his left asscheek, he finally couldn't take any more.  His hands came up to grasp mine, forcing my fingers to grip him tighter.  "I need to come," he whispered harshly, working our hands together over his length aggressively.  I gave him a hard bite on the ass and he groaned so loudly that I thought he had climaxed for a moment - until he swiftly turned and grabbed me by the shoulders, lifting me up to push me onto the bed and situate himself between my legs, all in the space of one quick moment.  I lifted my legs around his back and tilted my hips up, offering myself to him willingly, eagerly, and as he pushed down to enter me he buried his face against my throat and murmured _"Thank you, sweetheart,"_ in a strangled, almost anguished whisper.  I wasn't sure what he was thanking me for, but I circled my arms around his neck and held him tightly as he thrust into me, opening me wide, filling and stretching me effortlessly.  Again I felt no pain, just the delicious momentary discomfort of being forced open by something so large as his cock as it slid far up into my body.  It suddenly seemed strange to me, the whole idea of sex, of putting part of oneself into someone else...but it also felt so natural, so logical, so intensely _right..._

When we came, it was noisy and frantic and he was pushing into me so hard that I couldn't catch my breath, but when I did I used that precious little oxygen to cry out _More, more Tom, more!!_

And he obliged, with great fervor, until we climaxed in a sweating mess of tangled arms and splayed legs and damp hair falling into our faces and heaving, choking, gasping bodies that couldn't control their own trembling.  His hips were still jerking spasmodically against mine long after it was over, the last of his seed spilling, reminding me that soon we would be putting that to good use - a funny thought to have at that moment when he was lying on top of me trying to gather his wits enough to roll over off me.

When he finally did, and I heard the condom hit the floor beside the bed as he slipped it off and tossed it aside, I was relieved that I had stood my ground and hung the Valentino.

 

 

_To be continued..._


	28. Chapter 28

 

 

I was sitting in Tom's library, under his desk, staring at my phone in the darkness.  I was on text fifty-seven and I hadn't cried yet, though it had been touch and go there for a while at the start.

_You're a worthless cunt, Anna._

_Does he know you're broken?_

_Does he know how you got broken?_

_Did you tell him about all the things I shoved into you?_

_Do you still bleed when you're fucked?_

_Do you still lay there and cry behind your hands?_

_Do you smile that fake smile to keep from being hit_

_Has he figured out yet how fun it is to slap you around and watch you try to be brave?_

_Has he given in and hit you yet?  He will_

_You're so easy to love, it's too bad you don't deserve it_

_He'll figure that out._

_But you suck cock good enough, I guess that's reason to keep you around._

_Tell him how much you love me, Anna.  He'll find out anyway._

_You'll scream my name one night when he's fucking you._

 

"Anna?"

I didn't say anything.

"Anna, I know you're in here...I can see the light from your screen."

A pair of long legs appeared beside the desk, and after a moment he knelt down, his head lowering to peer at me.  "Do you feel like coming out?"

I shook my head, switching off my phone so that it was dark.  Tom sighed and I heard him moving around, then felt him scoot under the desk beside me.  "Well if you won't come out, then I'll come in."  He switched on the phone he was holding in his hand and the screen illuminated the small area we were occupying.  "Here, I got you this."  He handed me the phone.

"What is it?"

He laughed.  "It's a new phone, silly.  You can't exactly use your old one anymore, can you?"

"I could change the number."

"Yes, but I thought you might like a nice new one.  Look, it's got all kinds of cool things in it."  He took it back from my hand and started scrolling through the menu, pointing out apps and features that caught his fancy.  "And it's purple, like that crazy blanket you liked so much back home."  He slipped his arm around me and tugged me up against him, letting me nestle into the crook of his arm.  "I hope you don't mind but I took the liberty of emailing the packing company with a specific request that that blanket be in the first box they send."

I had held my tears back through all those horrific messages, but now they were threatening to break free at the mention of my blanket.  It was my security, my comfort when I slept alone.  It was the first thing I'd bought for my place after Eric was gone and I was attached to it.  Even when Tom was there, I had slept with it piled up on my upper body, pulled up to cover the side of my face, leaving only enough space to see out of.  He had teased me about it many times, telling me I didn't need it anymore now that I had him, but I knew he understood - every night when we were settled into bed, he would pull it up from the bottom of the bed and tuck it around me.

I had been missing it and he knew it.  He'd tried to replace it with the blanket he kept folded up on the foot of his bed, but it wasn't the same.  It wasn't _my_ blanket.

I felt silly, a grown woman needing a security blanket for comfort.

"Thank you."

He squeezed me tighter, kissing the side of my head.

"Did you read them?"

"Yes...not all of them though.  I got tired."

"Are they still coming in?"

I nodded.

"He'll tire himself out eventually."

"No, he won't."

 

We sat there in silence for a while, in the dark, tucked up under his desk.  When he finally spoke again, he asked me what I wanted to do with my old phone.

I wasn't sure how to answer.  "We have to keep it, right?  In case we need to - to prove anything.  Right?"

"Yes.  Are you okay with that?  Possibly allowing the police to read those texts, if it becomes necessary?"

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my fingers.  "Yeah. If it becomes necessary."

Tom nodded and sighed.  "I think for now we should leave the number active and let him think you're still using it.  If we shut it off and he starts getting an inactive number message, he might get mad."

"Yeah.  He would.  He always got furious if I even switched it off, he wanted to be able to contact me at any time."

"Well, I won't do that to you...but I do want you to keep your new one switched on, so I can check to see that you're safe when we're not together."

I sniffled and nodded against his shoulder.  "I will."

After a little while he stretched his legs out, groaning a bit.  "Could we maybe get out of here?  I'm folded up like twelve times and my back's getting stiff."

 

He crawled out from under the desk and then crouched beside it, reaching back in with his hand to urge me out.  "Going to join me?  I was thinking we might call in some pizza, or maybe Chinese.  Does that sound good?"

I took his hand and let him pull me out.  "Both sounds good."

"Then both it is."

 

That night when we were making love I realized with frustration that it hurt again.  The hard sting had been there when he entered me, but it didn't fade quickly like it did before and I found myself tensing, which made it worse.  Tom knew immediately that I wasn't okay and stopped, but I told him he'd pushed too hard against my incision that was still healing.  I felt like he knew I wasn't being completely honest with him, but I also knew he didn't want to upset me further by making me talk about it, so he shifted his weight to play along with my fib and slowed his pace, handling me more gently.  It ended up being wonderful and satisfying like it always was, but afterward I lay there angry, hiding my face in the pillow so that he wouldn't see.  I hated Eric so much in that moment.  I'd felt so good, so brave and strong for the last couple of days, and now it was fading again because he couldn't keep his finger off the _send text_ button and just leave me alone.

But it was my fault too, because I had insisted on reading them.  Tom told me he didn't think it was a good idea.  He was right.

 

The next morning he was putting on his shoes to go on his run and I told him I was going to walk to the shops; he froze for a moment, his shoelaces pulled tight in his now-still hands, looking at me with his eyebrows up.

"Alone?"

"Yes, alone...isn't that why you got me the phone, so I can do things by myself and you can check up on me?"

"Well...yes...and no.  I want you to get out and do things, I think it's wonderful that you finally want to.  But I don't want to check up on you, sweetheart.  I just want you to be able to contact me if you need me.  And of course I like to know you're okay."

"It's alright, you don't have to explain," I said absently, fiddling with the new phone.  "I know I'm sort of messed up.  I'd want to keep an eye on me too if I were you."

"Baby, don't be hard on yourself."

"I'm not.  I'm just being realistic."

He watched me for a few moments while I set my ringtone and changed the text tone from the default to something else; I didn't want to hear the same tone my old phone had been set to, ever again.  While I was fiddling he stood up and pushed his hand down into his pocket, rummaging around till he pulled something out and put it down on the table in front of me.  I looked up and saw it was a small stack of money.

"What's that for?"

"Book money," he said, smiling sweetly.  "I never leave the house without book money, and I know you like to read as much as I do, so if you're going out exploring then you need book money."  He finished tying his shoes and stood up to stretch.  "And frozen coffee, they make a good one at the shop just next to the bookstore."  He came around the table to kiss me on the cheek, then headed for the door.  "Have a good time sweetheart - and remember the traffic is on the opposite side of the road now."

I watched him go, shaking my head a little.  He was the sweetest man alive, that much was indisputable...but despite his reputation as a great actor, I could always see right through him when he was covering up his feelings.  I knew he was pretending to be unconcerned, when he was obviously worried sick about me leaving the house alone.  Giving me book money had been a diversionary tactic to throw me - and himself - off the realization that he was nervous about the whole thing.  Rushing off with that nonchalant attitude was just a ruse to make me think he wasn't freaking out internally, that he didn't think me going out alone could be a bad idea.

I knew it could be, but I had to do it.  I'd been cooped up in his house for so long, only going out if it was with him.  There was no excuse for me not to do this.

Besides, now I had book money.

 

I had no idea how British currency worked, so I ended up asking the clerk in the bookstore to count my money and tell me how much I had.  He asked if I was with Mr Hiddleston and, although it startled me and caught me off guard, I said yes.  He smiled brightly and said, "I thought so.  I've seen your pictures.  You have a line of credit here, Mr Hiddleston's one of our best customers."  He handed the money back to me with a polite tip of his head.  I didn't know what to say, so I stuffed it back into my purse and told him thank you.

 

When Tom returned from his run I was sitting at the table, fiddling with my phone again.

"How'd your walk go, baby?  Get some exploring done?"  He saw the little stack of books on the table and grinned broadly.  "I see you found the bookstore."

"Yeah, I had a good time."  I pulled the money out of my purse and held it out to him.  "I didn't need this."

He looked confused.  "You didn't spend any money?"

"Nobody would let me.  It seems you have credit all over the place."

He laughed, throwing his head back.  "Yeah I'm a regular customer at the shops.  So they knew who you were?"

I nodded.

He pulled out the chair and sat down, raking his hands through his sweaty hair.  "I imagine they've seen your pictures, darling.  We're all over the place since the charity night."

I didn't say anything for a while, and neither did he.  I knew there would be pictures, video, probably even television clips on the entertainment programs.  I had accepted that probability the second I put that dress on and got into the car with him.  I was going to have to get used to it, all of it, if I was going to stay.

And staying was the one thing I wanted to do the most.

 

Later that afternoon I was still feeling brave.

"Give me back my book money please, I want to go get some apples."

Tom looked at my outstretched hand and smiled, setting his book aside and lifting his hips to push his hand into his pocket.  He knew it was hard, damn near impossible in fact, for me to ask him for anything - so seeing me with my hand out and a stony, determined look on my face was something of an improvement.  I had actually had to take several deep breaths before I said it, but he pretended not to have noticed.

"Would you like me to walk you there?  It's starting to get a little dark out."

"Nope.  It's what, three blocks?  I can do it."

He put the money in my hand and gave me a look that said _look at you, getting all brave._

"Get me some oranges too, would you darling?  For breakfast in the morning."

"Okay."

"Is your phone on?"

"Yes."

"Do you have it in your pocket?"

I sighed.   _"Yes."_

He grinned and held his arms open, waiting for me to climb onto his lap for a hug.  "I'm sorry if I'm being overbearing, sweetheart...but you're suddenly doing things on your own and going places without me, I just want to make sure you're safe."  He kissed the top of my head as I curled up against him.  "I'm so happy that you're feeling good enough to take your independence back.  I'm proud of you.  Just indulge me in the worried fiance department for now, alright?  I've got some growing to do, too."

I nodded and turned my face up to nuzzle into his neck.  "Fiance.  That's a funny word."

He chuckled a little.  "Yes, and I am yours and you are mine.  Now go get your apples before it gets too dark."  He urged me up off his lap.  "And don't forget my oranges or I'll send you back."

 

Halfway to the shops my phone rang and I froze, panic surging through me.  I remembered my first trip out of the house alone, before we left the States in a rush, when I'd been standing by the fountain in the square and Eric had texted me.  I had thought it was Tom and flirted with him unknowingly.  I could feel the phone vibrating in my pocket and it took all my strength of will to reach in and pull it out.

Tom's goofy face was on the call screen...he had put himself in the phone before he even gave it to me.  My panic settled as I answered it.

"Where the hell are you?  You've been gone for days, I miss you.  Come home _pleeeeeease._ I want my oranges."

I started laughing, more from relief than amusement at his little prank.  "I'm not even there yet.  Go take a cold shower."

"Not a bad idea.  Hey get me some hobnobs too, please."

"What are hobnobs?"

"You're hopeless.  Ask the lady at the register."

"And reveal my complete stupidity concerning all things British?  No thanks, I'll just wander around till I find them."

"Start in the sweets aisle or you'll be there all night."

"I'm hanging up now, I need to cross the street."

"Call me when you get to the other side."

I hung up.  I knew he was just being silly, but underneath it was his very real inclination to smother me if I let him - and I had fallen too deeply into the habit of letting him.

 

I made it home with my apples, his oranges, and the hobnobs.

"Those are oatmeal cookies, why don't you just call them that?"

"Because they're hobnobs, that's why."  He took the box out of the bag and smiled.  "You even got the ones with chocolate, my favorite."

"You're worse than a hormonal female about your chocolate.  I do know that much about you."

He giggled a little, then put the box down and started toward me.  I saw him coming and ran to the other side of the table, switching sides with him.  "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"  His head was down and he was looking at me with that predatory glint from the tops of his eyes.  He started around the table again and I sidestepped quickly, ending up where he had been just a second ago.

"It looks like you're going to chase me around this table, which is stupid and pointless because you've got the wingspan of a pterodactyl and could just reach across and grab me."

"But where would the fun be in that?"  He was slowly advancing around the corner now, his eyes locked onto me like a lion marking his prey at the watering hole.  "Maybe you should stop going round the table and head for safer ground."

"Like where?  The bedroom?  Do you really think I'm that dumb?"  I hurled an orange at him and he caught it effortlessly, plucking it out of the air and biting into it through the skin.  He spit the peel out and chewed slowly, juice dripping down his chin.  Something in me shivered and I knew this was going to end with us in bed or on the floor, it didn't matter which.  Might as well cut the chase and skip straight to the mauling, since this particular watering hole obviously belonged to him.

"Bed or floor?"

"I'm cool with either."

"Okay."  I started to unbutton my shirt and he burst into laughter.  

"What?  Wait - you're going to deprive me of the hunt?  Oh come on...I'm a beast, baby, I live for the pursuit.  Your fluffy little white tail held high as you run, the zigzag pattern you cut across the veldt as you sense me closing in on you..."

"Am I an elk or one of those kuzu things?"

"What?"

"I've got a fluffy white tail, I'm assuming I'm not a garden bunny if I'm on the veldt."  He gave me a blank look and I raised an eyebrow at him. "What?  I'm just trying to get into character."

He stared at me for a moment, then shrugged.  "Okay, bed it is.  Lets go."

 

On the stairs he grabbed me and hauled me up over his shoulder, taking the remaining steps at a run, bouncing me hard as he kicked open the bedroom door and charged inside.  He had me on the bed and was tugging my pants down off my legs before I had even caught my breath from being unceremoniously dumped onto the pillows.

"Tom, Tom, condom! Condom!"

"Is that your mating cry, sweetness?  Because it's turning me on."

I kicked at him, laughing uncontrollably now.  He caught my legs with his hands and wrenched them apart, pushing my knees up so that I was opened wide to him.  His eyes raked appreciatively, hotly, over my skimpy panties.  I stopped struggling.

"Ohh, I get it - you're the predator, I'm the prey, you're going to _eat me."_

He nodded enthusiastically.

_"Ohh yesss."_

 

My panties were pushed aside in his hurry to get at me and he knelt between my legs, burying his face against me, wasting no time pushing his tongue into me.  I yelped at the sudden onslaught and squirmed in his grip but he held me tight, his strong hands clenching my legs just below my knees. 

"Oh god, Tom," I moaned as his warm, soft tongue pushed in and out, making me wet with his saliva and my own quickly forming juices.  He pulled his head up for a moment to see my reaction and his lips broke into a wide, sharkish grin.

"I'm going to eat your pussy until you come, sweetheart, and then if you've got anything left I'll see to that condom."

I smiled happily, watching him as he lifted my legs up over his shoulders and let my calves rest on his back.  When he returned his attention to my lower bits his pace was more leisurely, not as aggressive, and when his tongue began lapping warmly at my folds, his lips sucking at them gently, I groaned and clutched at the sheets till my knuckles went white.  He took his time getting to my clit, but when he did finally work his way to that throbbing little bundle of nerves and pulled it into his mouth with his lips before caressing it mercilessly with his tongue, I couldn't stop myself from screaming his name, my hands clamped over my face trying to stop the noise, the bed creaking from the force of him holding me still against the uncontrolled thrusting of my hips.  And when I came, it was with that blinding white flash of heat and spiraling pleasure that makes you dizzy and paralyzes you for a split second before releasing its hold and letting you fall, slowly, warmly, back to earth, where you land in the soft pulsing throb of satisfied fulfillment.  

Tom raised his head, licking his lips in such a dirty way that I giggled in embarrassment and covered my face again.  My juices were all over his face, wetting his beard, and his smile could only be described in one way - _a pussy eating grin._

"Are you hiding your face from me?" he asked scoldingly, swiping at his chin with the back of his hand, which just made it that much worse.  I nodded and he reached up to grab my wrist, tugging one hand away. "Now why would you want to do that?"

"Because that was... _nnngh_...and I think I bit my tongue."

He crawled up over me and pressed a finger to my lips.  "Open up, let me see."  I let him hook his fingertip over my bottom teeth and tug my mouth open, watching his eyes as he slipped a finger in and rubbed it across my tongue.  When he pulled it out there was actually blood on it.  "Yep, you did.  It was that good, eh?"

He let me up and I went to rinse my mouth out and check my tongue in the bathroom mirror while he sat on the edge of the bed, putting on his condom.  I watched him in the mirror for a minute, stifling a giggle - he looked so happy, so pleased with himself, he was actually humming and bobbing his head in tune with the little melody as he rolled the rubber onto his cock.  I shook my head and did another rinse-and-spit, satisfied when I didn't taste any more blood.  Damn orgasms were going to make me bite my tongue off one day if I wasn't careful.

The view when I switched off the bathroom light and stepped out into the bedroom made me stop in my tracks, slapping my hands over my mouth to hold back an outburst of laughter.  Tom was laying stretched out on the bed, totally nude except for the condom.  His cock was fully erect and standing up, as if it was a separate being doing its own thing.

"Okay I'm officially scared."

He broke into a grin, not even opening his eyes.  Smug jerk knew what was going on down south.  "Come on baby, get over here and take your mauling like a good little bunny."

"I thought I was the kuzu thing."

"Darling, a kuzu is a sheep.  I think you mean kudu."

"Do they have big twisty horns?"

"Yes."

"Then that."

"Oooh," he said dramatically, holding his hand out to me.  "You're twisted...and _horny."_  He wiggled his fingers for me to come to him.  "Bring your cute little fluffy white tail over here."

I obeyed, pulling back a little when he reached out and grabbed me by the wrist.  But the lion was much stronger than the kudu on this day, and our nature documentary took on a decidedly unexpected turn when he got up on his knees and pushed me onto the bed, face down, pulling my hips up so that my ass was in the air.  I felt his warm lips kissing across my lower back, his hands caressing the backs of my thighs, sliding upwards to slip a long finger into my folds, finding me slick and wet from his previous attentions.  He moved around behind me and leaned over my back, kissing my shoulders, my spine, the back of my neck...I groaned and arched so that my butt pushed up into his groin and he responded by giving me a good hard bite to the scruff.

I understood instantly why lionesses in nature programs always lay still, roaring and growling, when bitten this way.  It was suddenly almost impossible to move.  I tried to reverse the arch of my back to break his hold, but he gave me a harsh slap to the backside with the palm of his hand.  

"Be still," he warned me, letting go with his teeth and replacing his grip on the back of my neck with his other hand.  This was even worse, but he turned my head to the side so that my face was uncovered and I could breathe.  The hand he'd spanked me with was gliding slowly over my bottom and I got the distinct feeling there was going to be another slap any second.

 _He's going to spank me,_ I thought with excitement.   _Maybe we can still do it, maybe I didn't ruin it for us._

"You've been a naughty little kudu, haven't you?"

I giggled nervously, still not completely sure what a kudu actually was, and wiggled my butt as much as I could with him hovering over my back.  I felt him move away, letting go of the back of my neck for a moment as he shifted to my side, then his hand came back and gripped me again.  He didn't push my hair out of the way and it pulled, making me hiss at the sharp tug.  His other hand was on my bottom again, rubbing in swift circles, tenderizing a spot to receive the next blow.  I could barely contain my excitement as I groaned, choosing to defy him with my response.

"Of course not...I've been good...I'm always good.  It's your outdated sexist dogma that wants to brand me as a bad girl so you can feel justified in punishing me instead of just taking delight in the fact that you enjoy swatting the hell out of me for sexual gratification."

There was a moment of silence, and then he started snickering; it quickly turned into full blown laughter and I felt him put his head down on the center of my back.  "Fucking hell Anna...I forget sometimes that you're a psychology major."  He patted my bottom.  "And something of a feminist it would seem."

"Just shut up and spank me," I growled.

 

The first smack felt so good I moaned out loud.  The second was harder and I yelped, the third made me bite the sheets and the fourth took my breath away.  Then he throttled back the force and gave me a few easy ones, slower, letting his fingers graze my sensitive lower parts briefly before he drew back for the next slap.  When it landed, he left his hand on my bottom, letting it turn into a caress, rubbing down over my now-throbbing clit and then back up to stroke my reddened cheek.  It was maddeningly delicious and he did it over and over, hitting me just hard enough to give me an arousing sting, letting his fingers slip down to stroke me in between each spank.  Before long my thighs were quivering and I was finding it difficult to maintain my position.

"What is it baby?" he asked gently, noticing my discomfort.  "Do you need a break?"

"No, my knees hurt."

He immediately grabbed the two big pillows from the head of the bed and tucked them under my stomach and hips, easing my knees out from under me to let my weight rest on them.  

"Better?"

"Mmm, much.  Thank you."

He leaned over my back and kissed me where my hip curved in to my waist.  "My pleasure, darling."  He sucked the skin there for a moment, leaving a nice purplish red mark, sending shivers through me when he broke the suction and blew his warm breath over the sensitive spot.  "Now, where were we?"

"Tanning my hide at the watering hole," I murmured, anticipation sending little ripples of excitement through me at the thought of his hand hitting my bottom again.  He chuckled, genuine mirth in his voice as he resumed caressing my tender, stinging cheeks.  

"I would make a watering hole joke but that might be in poor taste."  I was laughing when his broad palm slapped my rear again, taking me by surprise and making me cry out.  "Say it," he suddenly whispered, his face close to my ear..."Say it like you did in Spain."

I knew what he wanted.  It had been a long time since his daddy side had come out to play, most likely out of respect for my emotional needs.  Total forceful control and absolute submission hadn't been a good idea while I was dealing with my pent-up feelings, but now that they'd been released and dealt with...he could finally let his dark side roam a bit again.  The prospect thrilled me.

 _"Oh god,"_ I moaned as my stomach clenched with excitement and a suddenly unbearably intense arousal. _"Yes..."_

His hand smacked my bottom again.   _"Say it."_

I bit the sheets, burying my face in the soft blue cotton.   _"Please..."_

Another smack.   _"Say it!"_  His voice was a harsh growl now and I flinched, partly from the sting of the slap and partly in anticipation of what was coming.

_"Yes, daddy.."_

His hand came down much more gently this time, the slap just a light tap, but aimed directly to my clit instead of my bottom.  I groaned and squirmed but he put his hand on the back of my neck again.

"Yes daddy what?"

He was going to make me say it.  I knew resisting would earn me an extended spanking, which sounded unbearably wonderful, but I was beginning to throb with an almost painful desire and the other prospect - cutting to the chase - was suddenly much more alluring.

"Please fuck me..."

One more smack, harder, squarely on my folds, his fingers hitting my now aching clit.  I bit my lip and finally cried out what he wanted to hear.

_"Please daddy!"_

Those fingers that had just cruelly tormented my delicate underside now tenderly rubbed the spot they had hit.

"Good girl," he purred, stroking and rubbing me the rest of the way into full arousal.  "You're such a good girl, Anna.  Daddy's little princess."  He moved over me and situated himself between my legs, spreading them to give himself room, sliding into me easily as I groaned and tried to push my hips back to meet his thrusts.  "Lie still baby girl, let me take care of you."

I obeyed, clutching at the sheets as he drove himself into me, teetering precariously on that narrow line between roughness and care that he seemed to traverse so well.  His voice against my ear was breathy and tense, making my skin feel warmly damp as he panted, his deep moans sending delightful little jolts of heat through my lower belly and into my wonderfully full cunt.  He was stretching me wide with this angle, hitting me deep, the head of his cock bumping against my cervix with a sharp, painful stab each time he seated himself fully into me.  I held my cries back, not wanting to make him think he was hurting me...because even though he was, I found the pain with each thrust more incredibly fulfilling than the last.

 

After we were finished, he fell asleep across the bed, face down, snoring.  I covered him with the blanket and went into the bathroom to draw myself a bath; I ached all over, a deep, satisfyingly sore sort of ache that reminded me with every move that I'd just had nature channel sex with a vigorously dominant male.  One that was currently out cold from overexertion.

When I lowered into the tub I noticed the water tinged slightly pink. 

_Do you still bleed when you're fucked?_

_Do you still lay there and cry behind your hands?_

I leaned back, pushing the hateful texts out of my head, spreading my legs to let the hot water fill me, soothing the sting.  

_Does he know how you got broken?_

My hands went to my stomach and I wrapped my arms around myself.  How many times had I sat just like this, in the tub, washing Eric out of me, self soothing, trying to protect myself from his wrath?  Feeling small and helpless and injured, unable to fight back, unable to tell anyone.  Pink water.  Pain in my stomach, sometimes so bad it made me throw up.  But this was different.  This was Tom.

_Does he know how you got broken..._

He didn't know, and if I could help it, he never would.

 

 

To be continued...


	29. Chapter 29

 

I woke up later that night in so much pain I couldn't even scream.  Tom awoke moments later, blinking at me, confused and disoriented.  "What is it?"

"Please take me to the ER Tom," I sobbed, trying to swing my legs over the edge of the bed to get up but unable to straighten my body out. He scrambled out of bed and pulled his clothes on quicker than I'd ever seen him move.  He didn't question me; I imagine my tone of voice told him I was serious.  He grabbed my robe and put it on me before picking me up and carrying me down the stairs.  

He put me in the car gently and strapped me in, on his phone with whatever Britain's version of 911 is telling them we were on our way to St Mary's before he even got into the car himself.  He drove carefully but well over the speed limit and we were there in minutes, met at the emergency entrance by a nurse and an orderly who wheeled me in in a wheelchair while Tom was taken to the front desk to admit me.  It was scary being separated from him while I was panicking, but when he was finished with my paperwork the nurse brought him back to where I was being examined.  He held my hand and answered the doctor's questions as best he could, but he had no clue what was happening, and it was a while before I was able to speak for myself.

Two hours later I was discharged with a diagnosis of spasming diaphragm and stomach cramps and a prescription for anxiety meds, which I had no intention of taking.

 

Tom kept looking over at me as he drove us home, finally reaching across to put his hand over mine on my knee as I sat silently watching the streetlights go by.  

"How are you feeling, baby?"

I shook my head, chewing my fingers, not looking at him. 

"I thought it was happening again."

His head jerked around to look at me in surprise.  "You thought what was happening again?"

I stared out the window, not answering his question.  He reached across and touched me again, but I didn't acknowledge him.  I knew it wasn't fair to do him this way, but I didn't want to have this conversation with him.  Not now, not ever.  But now, because of a panic attack, I was going to have to.

 

He drove us the rest of the way home in silence, opening my door for me and helping me out of the car.  He walked me into the house with his arm around me protectively and sat me down on the sofa, sitting himself on the coffee table in front of me so that we were knee to knee and I was forced to look at him.

"I need to know what's going on, Anna.  Tell me, please."

I covered my face with my hands, trying desperately to get those piercingly sharp blue eyes off me.

"I shouldn't have read those texts."

He sighed.  "It's done, we can't undo it.  But I do want to ask you something about them."

I knew this was coming.

"He said _does he know how you got broken._  What did he mean by that, Anna?"

I shook my head, still hiding behind my hands.  "I can't talk about it."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."

There was a long silence before he spoke again, and when he did, his tone had changed drastically.  He reached up and pulled my hands away from my face, a little less gently than I was used to being handled by him.  The shift startled me and I jumped in surprise.

"Anna, I can't take you not telling me things anymore.  We're getting married, am I right?  You're going to be my wife, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Then you can't be keeping secrets from me.  There are things I need to know.  There are things I _have_ to know.  And this is one of them."  He stared at me for a minute while I tried desperately to keep from bursting into tears.  "You're waking up in the middle of the night in pain and unable to breathe, the ER doctor says you're under extreme stress, this is all new to me because you seem to be doing so well on the outside, so what I need to know is this - _what is going on on the inside that you're not telling me about?"_

I swallowed hard, choking back a sob that kept threatening to break loose.  I wasn't sure how to verbalize what I needed to say and I couldn't stop myself stammering as I spoke.  "All of this...you and me, getting married, planning for a family...it's just...it's bringing up things in my head...things I'm scared of."

"Things like what?  What are you scared of?"

"A memory."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"I'd rather not."

He gave me a frustrated look, bordering on _I've had enough of this shit._ I honestly couldn't blame him.  But he kept his temper under control and just sighed loudly, raking his hands through his hair, finally dragging his fingers down his face as he stared at the floor between our feet.  I could tell he was ready to give up, but I didn't want to be the one to drive him to that point.

"Don't look at me," I whispered.

His head shot back up and there was instant recognition on his face - this was how I'd been able to tell him some of the story that day in the cab. He remembered.  "Alright," he said quickly, standing up, moving from the couch to the diningroom behind me.  I heard him pulling a chair out from the table, the sound of him settling into it.  "I'm facing the window, away from you.  Is this good enough?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm ready when you are.  Just start talking whenever you want.  I've got all night."

I took a deep breath, not sure what my voice was going to sound like once I started talking.  I didn't know where to start, so I just went straight to the worst of it; I figured if he didn't get up and walk out after my first five words, then we might just get through the night as a couple.  This was hard...so unbearably hard...but I had to do it.  He wouldn't allow me to hold onto my secrets any longer.  I closed my eyes and pushed my fingers against my ears, not wanting to hear what was about to come out of my own mouth.

"I got pregnant...by accident."

 _There.  I said it_.  I moved my hands away from my ears and listened for anything that would tell me his reaction without looking at him.  He stayed put, but I didn't hear the sound of his breathing for a few long seconds.  When he finally exhaled, it was long and slow, and I heard the distinct sound of his hand rubbing his face. I would recognize the sound of his whiskers against his palms anywhere.  It was a good start, at least - he hadn't left, or started yelling at me.  He was still sitting there, facing the window as far as I could tell.

I bit my bottom lip hard to jolt myself into continuing.

"I was on the pill and I started having seizures.  I had to stop taking it.  He wouldn't use a condom so it was always up to me, but I wasn't allowed to go anywhere and he wouldn't take me to the doctor, so I had nothing for protection.  I told him I had no pills but he didn't care - that was my problem, not his.  He wouldn't even pull out to help lessen the risk.  So...when I missed my period twice and started getting sick, I knew. I didn't tell him I was pregnant, just that I was sick and needed to go to the doctor.  He told me to just go to bed till I felt better."

I could still hear him breathing, but it sounded heavier now, more labored.  I knew he was getting upset.

"I'd had the ovarian cysts since I was fifteen so it was surprising that it even happened.  Part of me was happy to know it was possible, because I'd never really thought it was.  I always wanted kids.  But I knew he wasn't going to be happy...I knew I had to leave him if I was going to keep the baby...I tried...that was when he beat me with the belt and left that scar across my back, he dragged me back home and said he'd kill me if I tried it again.  Two months later I started to show and he finally figured it out."

I waited a bit, more for my benefit than Tom's.  I could hear that whisker sound and knew he was rubbing his chin nervously.

"He was furious.  He hit me so hard he knocked me down, almost knocked me out...and while I was on the floor he...he kicked me in the stomach. Said he'd warned me what he'd do if I let myself get knocked up. I started bleeding that night and by the next morning I knew I'd lost the baby.  But he still wouldn't take me to the doctor.  He said 'women abort babies in gas station bathrooms' so I could man up and push this one out at home."

Tom whispered _"Fuck,"_   but didn't say anything else.

"Nothing happened for a couple of weeks except I just kept bleeding and getting sicker and sicker.  Finally while he was at work I went to the neighbor's house and begged her to drive me to the hospital.  By then I had such a bad infection that I ended up having to stay for four days. Antibiotics, they did an emergency procedure...Eric threatened the neighbor into telling him where I was, then came and acted like the concerned worried husband...convinced everyone that he had tried to get me to go to the doctor to find out why I wasn't feeling well and that the miscarriage was my fault because I wouldn't go."  I took a deep breath and swallowed, my hands shaking, in rage or panic or horror at dredging up this memory I'd fought so hard to bury, I didn't know which.  Maybe all three.  "They found new cysts on my ovaries, different than the ones I'd always had. Newly formed.  Nobody could say if it was caused by the infection...but the doctor said I would probably never be able to have another baby because of it.  Eric took great pride in claiming responsibility...he gloated for weeks over the fact that he had such complete control over me that he could even break my body so that I'd never have children. That's what he meant in that text.  He was taking credit for me being broken."

I stopped talking and suddenly realized how dry my throat was, how tight my chest felt.  I wanted a drink desperately but Tom was next to the kitchen and I didn't want to go near him yet, so I just sat and waited, wondering what he would do now that he knew everything.  My story was finished...it was in his hands now.

 

It was a long, uncomfortable, drawn out silence between the two rooms we occupied, but what finally broke it was the sound of him clearing his throat, followed by the unmistakable noise of him snuffling, probably rubbing his nose on the back of his hand.  I felt a stab in my gut.  Had he been crying?

"Would you like some water?" he finally asked, his voice very quiet and controlled.

"Yes, please."  My own voice sounded pitiful suddenly.  I heard him breaking the seal on a bottle of water, then pouring it into a glass.  I closed my eyes;  when I opened them he was in front of me, holding the glass out to me.

"Thank you."

He sat down on the coffee table and it was obvious he was gathering his thoughts carefully before speaking.  I felt strangely calm...I knew whatever he said now would determine what the rest of my life would be like, if it would be spent with him or without him.  And I was ready to accept it, whatever it was.  I'd finally told him everything.  Now it was up to him to choose his reaction.

He brought his eyes up to mine and stared into my face for a very long time before he spoke. 

"I...I'm not sure that I know how to deal with what you just told me," he said very slowly, stammering a little.  "But while I'm figuring it out, just know one thing Anna.  I love you, and I am going to stand by you no matter what.  I'm not going to leave you. If anything, I think this makes me love you even more because you are so strong and you've been through so much."  He looked down at the floor for a few seconds, then inhaled deeply and pulled his eyes back to mine.  "But I'm...I'm very hurt that you never told me this before.  But this isn't about me, so I'm going to put that away for now and just be here for you, like I've always promised you I would be."

I felt another painful punch in my gut.  "You're angry?"

"No, not angry.  A bit hurt.  A lot sad."  He stroked my cheek with the back of his forefinger.  "It stabs me in the heart that someone could treat you like that."

"He hurt me so much, Tom."

"I know, sweetheart.  I know.  You're safe now though, you know that, don't you?"  I nodded and let him put his arms around me; he did it slowly, tentatively, like he wasn't sure if he should touch me.  "But Anna, I can't have you keeping secrets from me any more.  Do you understand?  No more."

I nodded again, my nose suddenly filling the way it always did when I was about to cry.  I could feel it coming and there was nothing I could do to stop it once it started.  It was loud and painful and within seconds I was shaking so hard Tom had to hold my head against his neck to keep me still.  And over the sound of my pitiful wails, I could hear him telling me it was going to be alright.

 

It was days before he touched me again.  We still slept in the same bed, even cuddled a little, but he never did more than stroke my hair or rub my back gently.  It hurt, knowing he didn't want me, especially since I still wanted him - I ached for him, but I couldn't bring myself to let him know it. I knew he was having a hard time dealing with it all - not only what I'd told him, but the fact that I had withheld it from him for so long. I knew he felt betrayed by that.  I knew I had hurt him.  But it was my life _before_ him, long before I ever even _met_ him, and I felt resentful that I'd been made to give it all to him as if keeping it to myself was something wrong, something dishonest.  I had never even asked him about his past or his relationships before me.  But despite my resentment, I knew what the differing factor between the two was.

My past had a direct, potentially negative affect on our future.  His didn't.  There was nothing dark and damaging in his past.  Mine was full of horrible things.

Yet despite the obvious, I found myself silently angry with him.

 

Things started to change, little by little.  Tom's friends started becoming a part of our life, people that he hadn't seen much since I'd been living with him.  He had purposefully kept as many potential stressors out of our day to day existence as possible, but we both knew it was time for the real world to wrap itself around us again - I was getting spoiled to just having him in my life without any distractions, and though it was safe and warm and comfortable, we knew we really had no choice.  He would resume working when the time came, and I would hopefully pick up where I had left off, finishing my schooling somehow and finding work of my own.  I needed to get myself reintegrated into the reality of other people, outside influences, new places, different situations.  The panic attack had set me back a few steps in my progress, but I was determined not to let that setback be permanent.

Tom found a situation that he thought I would be comfortable with as my first big step into resocialization.  I was finally going to get to meet his best friend, the one he called his brother, the big Australian.  He and his wife and kids were in London to visit her relatives, and they wanted to meet me and spend some time with Tom.  He told them to come; he was anxious to see how the kids had grown and he wanted to take Chris to a new microbrewery that had moved in since the last time they'd been in town.  He seemed genuinely happy at the prospect of seeing his long absent friends, and smiled gleefully at me as he hung up his phone.  I could see the cogs in his brain turning; this would be the perfect way to get me into close association with people that he knew would be nonthreatening, safe, and accepting.

"Do you feel up to a visit, darling?" he asked hopefully, taking my hands and pulling me into a little dance with him.  This was the happiest I'd seen him since the night we went to the ER, and it gave me a little pang of sadness that it wasn't me making him feel this way.

"Yeah, sounds like fun."  He'd had his conversation with Chris on speaker so I had heard the whole thing.  I returned his smile and let him turn me in a slow spin, tugging me up against him.  

"They'll be here Monday.  You'll love Eva, maybe you can be friends.  She gets bored hanging out here while Chris and I play Xbox.  You can go shopping and do girl things."

I nodded, pretending to be excited.  I didn't want to ruin his joy, but deep inside I still felt miserable and sad and apprehensive about being around other people again.

"You know," he said as he dipped me into a deep tango drop, "I was thinking...maybe...we could go upstairs."

I waited until he stood me back up before I looked him in the eyes and asked, "What for?"

He was starting to get a mischievous quirk to his eyebrow and lowered his head to my neck, giving me a warm scratchy kiss on the throat.

"Well, I thought we might make a little love...maybe even some sex if you feel up to it."

His words sent a shiver of excitement through me - this was the first time in days that he'd even suggested we do anything sexual.  The relief made me feel weak and I nodded, trying to hold it together long enough to get upstairs with him.

_He still wanted me._

 

 

We lay on the bed, fully clothed, kissing and caressing and touching each other almost timidly.  He slowly moved his hand down to my stomach and pressed his palm against me, below my bellybutton, under my shirt so that he was touching my skin directly.  I realized I was holding my breath and opened my eyes to find him peering at me.

"I want you to know it's okay, sweetheart," he said quietly.  "I'm sorry for what happened to you...I wish I could take it away."  His fingers pressed into my flesh and I sucked in my breath.  It didn't hurt, but I had expected it to.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

He nuzzled up against me, curling himself around me from the side.  "I understand why, darling.  I've thought about it a lot and I know now.  It was too difficult for you to share with me because it hurt you so much and you're still hurting from it.  You didn't want me to feel the same way."

I felt a hot tear slip out of the corner of my eye and slide down my temple into my hair.  He must have seen it because he tipped his head up and kissed me on the wet mark that it left behind.  "I'm so sorry about your baby, Anna.  That must have broken your heart."

The lump in my throat was threatening to choke me.  I turned onto my side and pressed up against him, burying my face against his neck, inhaling his warm scent.  "We'll have one of our own, won't we?"

"Yes," he whispered, kissing the top of my head.  "We will.  Just as soon as Doctor Paige says we can start trying.  But Anna - "  He raised my face with his fingertips so that I was looking up at him.  "You don't have to try to forget about the baby you lost.  It's okay to remember.  It might even help."

I thought about it for a moment, not sure how that could help anything.  But I nodded and smiled at him, knowing it was a weak and totally see-through smile, completely belying the stabbing ache I still felt in my heart.

And then he was kissing me, and I tried to just forget it all for those brief moments while our bodies were straining to reach each other.

 

Eventually the lovemaking turned into sex and Tom took me, slow and gentle, his hands stroking my face and his lips kissing me tenderly while he whispered sweet words against my skin.  There was discomfort when he first pushed into me, but I felt so relieved that his interest in me had rekindled that I was able to relax and let him in without tensing.  

When I felt his body go rigid and his muscles tense, I clenched my own muscles to help push him over the edge, but I resisted when he tried to take me with him.  He raised his head to look at me, confused. 

"Will you let me help you come?" he whispered against my cheek, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe.  "Please, Anna?"

I shook my head, pulling away from him just a little; his arms didn't loosen so I ended up leaning back to put space between us.  "No.  I don't want to."

His face looked anguished, crestfallen...he stared at me for a moment before pulling me back against him again.

"Why not, sweetheart?"

"Because I - I don't - I don't want to lose control.  I need my control right now.  Please don't take it away."

"Shhhh...baby...I won't, I would never take it away from you without your permission.  But I want to help you feel better.  If you would let me."

I shook my head again, fervently.  "No.  Please Tom.  No."

He tightened his arms around my shoulders, pressing his lips to my head.  I could feel him breathing against my hair, the warmth of his breath spreading across my scalp.

"Okay." 

 

My stuff began arriving that day.  I was so excited that I started crying, standing there in the middle of the livingroom while the delivery guy hauled three big boxes in one right after another, leaving them lined up in front of me while Tom signed for them.

"There you go baby, it's a start at least," he grinned, going into the kitchen to get a knife while I started trying to peel the sealing tape off with my fingers.  "Here, here - much easier this way."  He cut the tape and stood back while I tore into the boxes, squealing with delight when I saw my clothes, my books, my shoes and CDs and makeup and all my favorite things that I'd been missing.  Just possessions...material things that meant nothing in the big picture, but that meant so much on the small scale when it came to making me feel at home.  I finally had things, _my own things,_ to scatter around Tom's house, to leave on his bedroom floor, to strew across his bathroom countertops, to hang in his closet.  It could finally be my place too.

The second box had my purple blanket in it, folded neatly on top of my DVDs and laptop and school textbooks, just as Tom had requested.  I pulled it out and buried my face in it, breathing deep.  It smelled like home.

When I looked up, he was smiling at me from the sofa, sipping his tea and watching me with a satisfied look on his face.  

"Look at you," he said with a grin.  "All happy again."  He put his cup down and opened his arms, his smile widening.  I wrapped the blanket around myself and went to him, snuggling down onto his lap as he wrapped his long arms around me.  His voice was quiet and a little bit sad when he pressed his lips to the top of my head and murmured, "I'm sorry you had to leave your life behind, sweetheart."

I inhaled my blanket, smelling the familiar scent of home mixing with the likewise familiar scent of Tom's shirt, and started feeling much more content suddenly.  "I didn't leave my life behind," I corrected him, settling against his chest.  "You came with me."

He smiled so wide I wondered how his face could hold it.

 

 

_To be continued..._


	30. Chapter 30

 

 

He cuddled me on his lap for a long time, letting me have my blanket wrapped completely around me like a comforting cocoon.  

"I want this to feel like home," he whispered, rocking me slowly.  I turned my face up to lay my head on his shoulder, my nose pressed into the side of his neck.  He smelled so nice, his skin always smelled so clean and slightly spicy; it was something I had gotten used to, and the thought of smelling it forever seemed like a warm, beautiful dream.

 _"You_ feel like home."

 

On Monday the Hemsworths arrived in all their noisy, boisterous glory.  They didn't even knock, the door just suddenly flew open and there stood a huge hulking blond man with two children hanging off him, followed by a small blonde woman leading another child by the hand.  They walked in like they owned the place and I just stood there, in the middle of the livingroom where I'd been changing the channel on the TV, staring at them in frozen surprise.

The man gave me a mock surprised look in return as he set one kid down on the sofa and glanced around the room.  "Did Tom move out?  This place was cloud white the last time I saw it."

"He's...not here, he went down to the shops."  I looked from one to the other of them as they settled in, putting down their bags and assorted offspring.

The man nodded approvingly, still looking around at the slightly altered furnishings - I had slowly begun putting my things around and the place already looked more homey than it had when I'd arrived.  He was right, it had looked like a cloud.  "Okay, cool.  Here, have a kid," he said nonchalantly, handing me a baby.  He left me no other option so I took the child, hefting him on my hip, completely flustered and wondering if Tom had done this to me on purpose.  Throwing me into the deep end to see if I would swim, it was a good ploy, but what if I sank like a stone?

"Well...come on in...sit down, make yourselves comfortable, I'm sure he'll be back in a few minutes."

The woman took the other baby and came to me with a smile spreading across her face.  "I'm Eva, and you're Anna - I can't begin to tell you how lovely it is to finally meet you."  She patted me on the arm, as my hands were suddenly full of a baby that I wasn't sure how to hold correctly.  "Tom talks about you all the damn time."

"ALL the damn time," her husband agreed, rolling his eyes as he flopped down on the sofa, putting his feet up on the coffee table.  "I've never seen him so pussywhipped."

"Chris, mouth!"

A baby started crying and I stood there, not knowing what to do, surrounded by all these noisy people;  but they were Tom's friends and I was determined that they would be mine, too.  This was my re-introduction into the world of other human beings on a close personal level and it was a test I intended to pass.  "Can I get you guys anything?"

"Whatcha got?"  I didn't even have to tell Chris to make himself at home, he had already done so and something told me he and Tom had done a lot of bachelor nights together before all the babies - and maybe a few since, as well.

"Um, well, whatever Tom usually has, we have."  I figured he probably knew exactly what would be in the fridge and as it turned out, I was right.

"Cool, I'll have a beer - it was a long bloody flight, I'm parched."  He looked over at me, still standing by the TV, holding one of his kids.  "No worries, I'll get it."

As he stepped over the coffee table to stroll into the kitchen and help himself to the beer, I smiled nervously at the woman - what was her name again?  Eva...I wasn't the best with names but I was suddenly terrified of looking stupid, so I said it to myself over and over in my head while I watched her change the other baby's diaper on the couch.  "Are these two twins?" 

"Yes, trust me, don't have twins.  Get your kids one at a time, it takes longer but it's much easier."

I smiled, not sure what else to do.  She obviously had no way of knowing this was a touchy subject for me and I wasn't about to let myself get emotional.  I bounced the baby on my hip, noticing as he or she stared at me that I was holding what appeared to be a mini-Chris.  My heart warmed, a quick image flashing in my head of a mini-Tom that I hoped would come into existence soon.

 

When Tom walked in, his face lit up and he broke into a huge open mouthed smile, yelling _"HEMSWORTHS!!"_ as the older child ran into his open arms, squealing and gleefully calling him Uncle Tom.  He hefted her up and tossed her effortlessly into the air;  I cringed, but the little girl was shrieking with delight and obviously loving it.  He caught her and hugged her tight, kissing her cheek as he met eyes with me across the room.  He noticed the baby in my arms and grinned, a sparkle coming into his eyes as he nodded his head at me approvingly, as if he was saying _looks good on you babe._

 

At two o'clock it was time to change my hormone patch and I went upstairs, thinking I would do it myself, but Tom followed me up and shut the door behind us, disappearing into the bathroom for a few minutes. I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, pushing them down a bit and leaning over the edge of the bed, waiting for him to come out with my patch.  He was taking forever and I eventually turned to look behind me to see what the holdup was, and found him standing in the bathroom doorway, leaning on the jamb and staring at me appreciatively.  Or more specifically, staring at my half exposed butt appreciatively.

"Could we do this, please?  Your friends' kids are all over the place, I don't want to be standing here like this when they come bursting in here, which I just _know_ is going to happen  _any second now."_

He grinned and put the corner of the packet in his mouth, ripping the paper packaging open with his teeth.  "But darling, you look so damn pretty, all undone and waiting."  He smirked at my unimpressed eyeroll and crossed the room to rub himself up against me, his hands sliding warmly down the backs of my thighs, pushing my jeans down further.  His lips were on the back of my shoulder as he murmured, "I might just have to have a quick taste of you before we rejoin the party."

A loud wail erupted from somewhere downstairs and we heard Chris bellowing something about a binky.  "I don't see how that's a party."

Tom chuckled, a genuinely happy sound that drove home to me just how thrilled he was to finally have his friends back in his life again.  I knew he had missed them, and though he claimed to enjoy all the alone time with me, I wasn't fool enough to think a socially driven creature like Tom could be truly happy without a wide circle of people around him on a regular basis.  It was something I would have to get used to.  He had given it up for a long time to just be with me, because he knew that was what I needed.  It was time for me to stop being selfish with him.

He slowly peeled the old patch off my hip while sliding his tongue wetly across the back of my ear, right on that bump that he knew always made me shiver.  I was about to say something about hurrying up when he suddenly and without warning slapped the new patch onto my hip, much harder than was necessary.  I pressed a hand over my mouth to keep from yelling, quickly putting the other hand on the mattress to keep me from falling on my face from the force of the smack.

"Dammit Tom!" I hissed, wriggling to try to get out from between him and the bed, but he was standing up against me and had my legs pinned to the side of the mattress.  "Get off me you dick, that  _hurt!"_

"Of course it did darling, how else was I to get your attention?"  He rubbed the patch, making sure the edges were sticking properly.  "You've had a glazed look in your eyes ever since I got home, like you've sent yourself away to your happy place.  Don't tell me you're freaked out by a couple of babies?"

"It's not the babies, it's the fact that there are so damn many of them, and Chris is bigger than your livingroom and...what the hell are you doing back there?"  He was rubbing against me with his hips, pushing his groin into my bottom.  I could feel him hardening and tried to turn around and push him away, an attempt that failed miserably when he grabbed my shoulders and pushed my upper body down on the bed.  The push was forceful, but still gentle enough to not feel threatening, and he slid his hands up and down my back soothingly as he bent over to kiss my spine.

"We have time for a quick one, baby," he murmured huskily, his cock stiffening quickly as he unzipped his jeans and pulled himself out to rub hotly against my asscheek.  "Have we ever done it this way before?"

"In a house full of people with a dozen small children outside the door?  No, I don't think we've ever done it this way before."

A warm palm came down on my butt, which I was expecting.  "That's for your sass," he warned me, rubbing his hand roughly over the spot he'd just spanked.  "Be good or you'll get another."  I heard a crinkling sound and recognized it immediately as a condom being unwrapped.

"Tom," I whined, trying to squirm away. "Please, come on - what if they need something?  What if they come up here to ask where something is?"

He smoothed my hair down my back with his fingers, sending a shiver up my spine.  "They know where everything is, baby.  Don't worry."  I felt his hands slide under my panties, pulling them down over my hips and pushing them down my legs with my jeans, moving back up to grip my hips and steady me as his cock nudged against me, seeking out the warm softness of the rapidly heating juncture between my thighs.

_"But Tom - "_

"No buts, darling...here."  He reached around me to take my hand, pulling it behind my back and pressing it to his swollen cock.  "Guide me in."

I gripped him with my fingers and lined him up, no longer interested in arguing about it.  I pushed back so that he slid easily into me and tried my best to muffle the groan that slipped out of my mouth.  "Oh Tom..."

His voice was a raspy whisper as he groaned and cursed quietly, holding me by my hips, pushing against me in fast shallow strokes that I knew would send him into orgasm quickly.  It was fine with me - the quicker the better - but he wasn't touching me anywhere with his hands except on my hips, and in this position my now aching clit was being sorely neglected.  I whined and reached back to grab his hand and tug it down, but he took my wrist and pulled my arm up to the small of my back, holding it there.  "No, baby girl - none for you.  Not until I can fuck you properly and you can scream as loud as you want."

"But Tom!" I groaned miserably, struggling briefly against his hold on my wrist.  I couldn't even budge my arm, so I tried bucking back against him to break his grip.  No good - but my movement aroused him more intensely and with a few more hard pushes he released, falling forward to rest his forehead on my back as he came.  His fingers entwined with mine and we fell onto the bed together, him panting and trembling, me whimpering and still trying to rub against him.  He kissed my cheek and pulled out of me with a hoarse chuckle.

"Now you'll be horny and unfulfilled for the rest of the day until we can be alone tonight," he said tauntingly as he removed his condom and zipped his jeans back up.

"And what's the point of that?" I whined, pouting as I watched him tuck his shirt in.  He grinned and tugged me to the edge of the bed by my legs.

"The point of it is, you'll have heart eyes for me all day, and my friends will be able to see just how in love with me you truly are," he said, kissing my stomach and breaking into amused laughter before he even finished his sentence.  He was obviously pleased with himself.  

"You suck," I snarled, only half angry.

"Oh I definitely will at some point," he said with a wink.

 

The afternoon was spent with Tom and Chris catching up and Eva and I getting acquainted.  She was outgoing and vivacious and I liked her instantly;  besides that, she chattered nonstop and I had to do little more than just listen.  We were in the kitchen getting juice for one of the kids when Tom peeked in.

"Hey girls, Chris and I are going to run the babies over to your mum's house and then we'll go out to eat, how's that sound?"

"Like the best idea in the history of ever," Eva said with obvious relief.  "I love my brats but damn, traveling with this many is a study in insanity.  Every time we swear we're not going to take them with us and then bam, there we are on a plane trying to not get thrown off by security - "

Tom was laughing and he winked at me as she rattled on.  I could tell he was happy to see me getting along with his friends.  "We'll be back in a few minutes...how does Olympia sound?"

I had no idea what Olympia was, but I nodded my approval because Eva seemed excited about it.  Tom ducked back out after snagging a quick kiss.

We headed upstairs to change clothes after the men and all the children were gone and the house was suddenly, blissfully silent.  Eva headed for the closet, looking slightly confused when she saw mostly Tom's clothes hanging in it.

"Can I borrow a blouse?  This one has baby spit on it."  She eyed my chest for a second and then shrugged.  "Your boobs are bigger than mine so I'm gonna look frumpy but oh well, I don't need more kids anyway."

"Sure - I don't have very many clothes but you're welcome to look through what I've got."

She looked at me with a cocked eyebrow.  "Why don't you have many clothes?  You're a girl, we're meant to have ten times more than we need at least.  Where's your closet?"

I suddenly felt sheepish, and her questioning stare wasn't helping any.  "My stuff hasn't all arrived from home yet.  I've just gotten a few boxes."

The questioning stare turned quickly into an outraged scowl.  "Honey, make Tom take you shopping!"

"Oh he's tried, I just...I'm not real big on shopping, and it always kinda turns into something else anyway because he's easily distracted."

She sighed and gave me a sympathetic frown.  "Thomas has always been like a five year old with attention deficit disorder.  And I can only imagine what it's like taking him into a dressing room.  I tell you what - tomorrow I'll take you shopping. The guys can play video games and eat pizza while we're gone.  I know all the good shops."  She pulled a gray top with thin straps and sparkles around the neckline off the rack and held it up in front of her.  "Do I look ravishing?  I need to look ravishing because everyone's going to be looking at you and that'll suck for me."

I nodded, but she was already heading into the bathroom, pulling off her shirt as she went.  "Why will everyone be looking at me?"

"Because," she yelled from inside the bathroom, "You're with Tom."  She stuck her head out and gave me a look.  "Don't you know who you are?"

"Um...no?"

"You're royalty.  You're the first woman Tom has been with for more than a few weeks and everybody knows it.  Don't you read the magazines?"

"No."

"Ah, well - I'll sum it up for you.  You're Hiddleston's little princess and you're everything from a golddigger after his fame to a soulmate carrying his child.  We've been watching the whole thing unfold on the tabloid news back home."

I sat on the edge of the bed, not sure I wanted to be hearing this.  I'd managed to stay away from the magazines, the TV entertainment news shows, that infernal Daily Sun that was in every checkout lane of every store in the country.  Tom and I hadn't been out together to many public places yet, but the charity event photos were still popular and of course the hotel pictures from Spain.  Those seemed to be the internet favorites.  But I was still holding our "normal" status in my head as reality, pretending the rest of it was on the other side of a wall that I had no desire to climb over and take a look at. _Just leave it there,_ I was always telling myself.  What goes on on the other side of the wall doesn't matter.

"Well, I'm not carrying his child," I said, rubbing the still-sore scar to the right of my bellybutton.  "And the sad state of my wardrobe would seem to discount the golddigging.  Although I did get to wear a Valentino original a couple of weeks ago."

"Ooh I saw that, you looked incredible!"  She came out wearing my gray top and did a spin, posing cheesily.  "Doesn't fit me like I'm sure it fits you, but it'll do.  Now we find something for you."  She went back to the closet and pushed Tom's clothes aside.  "You seriously only have like four things in here!"

"There's some stuff in the dresser."

She went to the dresser and started rummaging through the top drawer.  "We saw that little interview you gave on the carpet for that charity thing.  You killed it, lady.  It was like you'd been doing it your whole life." I laughed nervously as she pulled out Tom's box of condoms and shook it.  "You're almost out.  Damn, and it's a thirty-count.  No wonder you two never go anywhere."  

I picked up the pillow and held it over my face;  it would either hide my humiliation or suffocate me to death, but either way I wouldn't have to be having this conversation with my lover's best friend's wife.

"Here we go.  Understated but classy, and you won't outshine me too much."  She tossed my light pink button-front shirt onto the bed and pulled the pillow off my face.  "Now get dressed babe, the boys will be back in a minute and I'm starved."

I sat up and started to take my shirt off;  Eva's eyes went to my stomach and I could tell by the dip of her eyebrow that she noticed my scars.  But she didn't say anything, and when I'd changed into the pink shirt she gave me a big smile and went to get my makeup box from the dresser.  "Boys love glamourpusses," she stated, dumping my stuff out on the bed.  "So lets give 'em what they like."

 

Tom's eyebrows went up almost comically when we came down the stairs.  I'd changed into some dark skinny jeans and had left the top three buttons of the fitted pink shirt undone at Eva's urging, and she had done my makeup and talked me into wearing my black leather heels.  It was overall a much more dramatic look than I normally felt comfortable in, but Tom's face showed nothing but approval as he watched me. He refrained, thankfully, from embarrassing me with praise in front of Chris, but when I went into the kitchen to shut off the light he followed me in and attacked me from behind with a big hug and a wet kiss on the neck to spare my lipstick.  "You look fucking gorgeous baby," he growled, letting his eyes fall appreciatively to the peekaboo of cleavage showing where my third button was open.  "I might not be able to control myself with you being all sexed up like this."

"Please try," I giggled, squirming out of his arms and flipping the switch.  "You know I'm shy in front of other people."

"Said the body double from a big studio worldwide blockbuster movie that will be seen by millions."

I groaned and stepped around him, pulling him by the hand to urge him along.  "Don't remind me."

 

Tom drove us to dinner in his Jaguar, which I'd never seen out of the garage even once since I'd moved to London.  Chris and Eva were snuggled up in the back seat and Chris was doing the usual guy/car thing, asking incredibly technical sounding questions about engine torque, acceleration, handling, things that made no sense nor held any interest to either me nor Eva, and Tom was answering with what sounded like carefully memorized passages from the owner's manual.  Eva finally stopped them with an exasperated "For gods sake guys, you sound like the world's most boring car ad!" and I turned around just in time to see Chris roll his eyes.  "I'm sure Tom knows the entire manual front to back, and the French version too - I'll bet he recites piston lubrocity in his sleep," he said with a grin as Eva tried to put her hand over his mouth.

I laughed and nodded, earning myself a wounded look from Tom.  "You should see how he is with medical pamphlets, every time we go to my doctor he grabs like ten of them and memorizes them before we even get home, then he quotes them to me for weeks!"

"It's stuff we need to know, Anna!" he protested petulantly.  "And besides, last time I only got three.  I could have picked up the ones on asthma and herpes but I didn't think they really applied to us."

He was looking genuinely hurt and it cracked me up - with his glasses on for driving, he looked like such a nerd.  It was cute in a geeky kind of way and I reached over to boop his nose.

"Why are you going to the doctor so much?" Chris asked, sounding curious.  I heard a slapping sound - probably Eva giving him a smack on the leg to make him be quiet.  Tom and I looked at each other and I suddenly didn't feel quite so lighthearted anymore.  I could see the concern that came immediately to his eyes, the quick lick of his lower lip that told me _It's okay baby, I've got this._

"Anna has a...condition...that makes it difficult for her to conceive."  He glanced in the rear view mirror and then looked over at me again and gave me a little smile, reaching across to put his hand on my knee. "We're working on it."

"So you're planning on procreating?"  His voice sounded slightly amused;  if he had caught the silent interaction between me and Tom, he didn't let on.

"That's the plan, yeah."

There was a little pause of silence from the back seat, then a simple "Cool."

Tom squeezed my hand and smiled at me.  "Yeah, it's pretty cool."

 

After dinner we drove around the city for a little while, through the theater district, seeing the sights.  It was fun, just hanging out with people who didn't care who we were - I didn't feel self conscious or judged, and Tom was relaxed and happy.  It was nice and I found myself at ease enough to lean on him, snuggling against him in our booth at the restaurant, holding hands with him, not blushing when he whispered sweet things in my ear.  When we left I saw a few flashes go off as we crossed the street, but it didn't panic me and none of us paid it any mind. 

When we got back to the house, Chris made himself comfortable on the sofa, kicking off his shoes and giving Eva a smack on the rear.  "Go get me a beer, woman."  She rolled her eyes and hit him with a cushion, but headed for the kitchen to do his bidding as he looked around the room, nodding in approval.  "The place looks better, Tom.  You needed a woman to make it hospitable." 

"Yes, my abiding fear of color has been overridden by knicknacks and throw pillows."  Tom gave me an indulgent grin and I looked from him to Chris, wondering if there was a private joke that I wasn't privy to. Chris caught my slightly confused look and raised his beer bottle that Eva had just put into his hand, motioning toward Tom.

"Didn't he tell you?  He's colorblind, the reason his whole house is white is because he's terrified of accidentally painting his livingroom pink."

"I'm not colorblind, I'm color challenged," Tom protested, taking the beer Eva offered him, thanking her with a kiss to the back of her hand.  "I never know what goes with what, if left to my own devices the place would probably be purple and orange."

"That's why he's been wearing the same clothes for ten years...someone once told him he looked okay and he figured his safest bet was to keep that outfit forever."

"True, embarrassingly."

Chris turned the TV on, flipping through the channels looking for sports while Tom settled onto the sofa next to him.  Eva took the opportunity to nod toward the kitchen and I followed her, sitting down at the table to pull off my ridiculously high shoes.  She poured us each a glass of wine and put the bottle down between us. 

"You know...I dunno how you feel about this sort of thing, but if you and Tom were, _inclined_...Chris and I would be up for a foursome." 

I froze, staring at her in shock but trying not to look shocked.  I was failing miserably and I knew it, but I couldn't stop my ears going hot and most likely red as well.

"A...foursome?" I asked shakily, hoping desperately that I'd heard wrong.  Maybe it meant something else in Australia?  "You mean like - ?"

She pointed to herself.  "One."  She pointed at me next.  "Two."  Gesturing toward the livingroom, she counted two more times in the general direction of Tom and Chris.  "Three, and four."

I must have looked like I was about to drop dead because she suddenly laughed and gave me a wink.  "I see you're a multiples virgin.  Tom has never mentioned us?"

"Mentioned you...yeah, but not like _that_...what do you mean, exactly?"

She laughed, indicating that she understood.  "It wouldn't be his first dance.  We all got drunk once and did a threesome."

I was all out of neutral expressions and just let my face show my true feelings - somewhere in between shocked dismay and absolute, utter, total panic.

"Okay, so he hasn't mentioned it to you.  Yikes."  She took a big swallow of wine and poured herself another glass, then poured a little more into mine.  "You okay?"

It was all sinking in, slow but embarrassingly sure.   _Tom and Chris and Eva...??_

"How long ago was this?"

"A few years ago, before all the babies."

I suddenly had a flashback to the little girl running happily to Tom, and him hugging and kissing her.  "He's not the father of any of them, is he?"

Eva laughed, almost choking on her wine.  "Oh hell no, Chris would never allow that.  I sucked Tom's cock while Chris banged me.  I never actually had _sex_ sex with Tom...and he and Chris never actually touched each other.  We were all just together naked in the same room, getting off at the same time."

"Oh my god."

She put her glass down and reached across the table to put her hand on my arm.  "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm..."  I couldn't finish my sentence.  I couldn't even begin to think of anything to say.  I stood up and paced across to the sink, thinking I would splash some water on my face, then remembered that I had on a ton of makeup and would just end up looking like I was melting.  Bursting into laughter, I slid down the side of the counter till I was sitting on the floor, my face buried in my hands, laughing uncontrollably. "This is just...god, I don't even know what to say."

I must have been laughing louder than I realized, because Tom poked his head in a moment later;  a look of confused worry came to his face when he saw me sitting on the floor and he shot Eva a raised eyebrow.

"What have you done to her?" he asked, laughing nervously as he came over to pull me up off the floor.  "Please don't tell her your childbirth horror stories Eva, she's traumatized enough about the whole thing as it is."

"Oh, lovely," I said facetiously as he tugged me up by the wrists.  "There are _childbirth stories_ too!"

Eva was laughing at the table, pouring herself another glass of wine.  "I didn't, Thomas, I swear."  She got up with her glass and grabbed the bottle, sashaying past us to head for the livingroom.  "I may or may not have dropped a little hint about your sordid past, that's all."

Tom's eyes went wide and I shrugged his arm off my shoulders, following Eva out of the kitchen, snagging my glass as I went.  "Come along, _Thomas."_

The look on his face as he obediently followed was priceless...he knew he was in trouble, he just didn't know how bad it was.

 

"So is that the worst story you have about his past?"

"Anna - "  Tom was shaking his head, his brow furrowed pleadingly.  He had survived the jovial retelling of the drunken threesome, but only just barely.  Neither Chris nor Eva seemed to have any compunction at all about spilling the details, and after a glass of wine and the start of a second, I was taking the news, in my own opinion, remarkably well.  "No, really, I want to know.  What else have you got?"

"Well, there was that time in Amsterdam."

My ears perked up.  "Oh?  What happened in Amsterdam?"  Tom's hands went to his face and I heard what sounded like a death groan from behind them.

"Our boy got stoned and ate a banana from a hooker's coochie."

My mouth dropped open and I stared at Tom;  he had his knees drawn up to his elbows and fell over sideways on the sofa, hiding his face behind Eva.   _"Chris noooo!"_ he moaned in humiliation.  "Come on guys, please - she doesn't know any of this stuff, can we just please spare her?"

"Spare me?  Or spare you?"

Tom sighed, acknowledging defeat.  "Oh god I was so messed up...Ben and his mystery stash...I don't even know what that was and _you_ \- "  He pointed accusingly at Chris, who was giggling gleefully in between swigs of beer.   _"You_ kept egging me on!"  He looked at me, obviously hoping for sympathy.  "The higher I got, the more insane shit he goaded me into doing!" 

"The banana wasn't my idea," Chris protested.  "You wandered off, none of us even knew where you were until Ben started screaming that you were on the floor with a stripper squatting over your face."

They argued good naturedly about whose fault that entire night was as Eva chatted on her phone with the kids;  I overheard her singing to them, as their grandmother was putting them to bed and they wanted to say goodnight first.  And I sat in the middle of all the noise, marveling at how different this was from the way Tom's and my life had been up to this point.  It felt strange having other people involved in our day...but to my surprise, it wasn't unwelcome.  In fact, I was starting to like it, the constant activity and happy noise and voices other than Tom's in the house.  I could get used to this.  And finding out that he had a less than perfect past - that was just the cherry on top.  

None of it bothered me...boys will be boys, and all that nonsense.  But one thing did make me feel a little bit sick, the fact that it took two of his friends and a bottle of wine for me to find out about any of it.

I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

 

I lay in bed that night listening to Tom snore beside me, thinking about how the day's revelations were making me feel.  On the one hand, it was his past and it meant nothing to us as a couple - his actions had no effect on our future, they were simply the poorly thought-out results of a couple of drunken binges.  But still it was bothering me.  He had made me reveal everything to him.  He had forbidden me to keep any more secrets from him about my past, even though it was just that - _my_ past, not his.  Yes, the events of my past had a very real effect on our present and our future, so in that regard he was in the right in his insistence on knowing everything.  But it made me feel like there was nothing that was mine alone.  He had it all now, me, my past, my present, and my future.  It was all his.  I had his present and his future, but I'd left his past alone, letting him keep it all to himself.  It had always felt unfair, unevenly balanced, somewhat hypocritical.  And I was more unhappy about it now than I had been before.

_Why?_

The things I'd learned that day didn't make any difference.  They weren't life altering.  They were barely more than amusing.  All they revealed was that Tom had a kinky streak that grew exponentially with every bottle of beer or glass of wine he drank.  It wasn't anything I didn't already know - he and I had gotten drunk together twice on the set in Spain, and the second time had resulted in a late night tryst against an alley wall in the rain as people walked past.  The fact that he turned into a world class horndog when under the influence was nothing new to me.

What was troubling me about this was the fact that there was a disturbing double standard at play.  I had told him everything and he had told me nothing.  When his past indiscretions came to light, he reacted with embarrassment, but it was because his actions were of an embarrassing nature...not because it took the arrival of his loudmouthed friends to reveal them.  Not because he realized he should have told me these things himself.  Not because he'd never told me anything, period.

"Tom, wake up."  I pushed his shoulder, jostling him hard a couple of times.  He snorted, startled into waking in the middle of a loud snore.  

"What is it?  What's wrong?"

"Talk to me.  I feel bad about something and I don't want to feel this way."

He blinked hard, trying to focus, shifting around to sit up.  "Baby what's happened?  Are you sick?"  I snuggled against his side as he put his hand on my forehead, as if to check me for fever.  I shook my head.

"I'm just upset."

"About what?"

"You made me tell you stuff.  Stuff that was mine.  But you never told me any of your stuff."  I buried my face against his tee shirt to muffle my voice;  I sounded whiny, even to myself, and I hated it.  

"Darling, I - "

I cut him off, not wanting to hear the apology I knew was coming.  He would tell me he was sorry, not because of what he'd done or my perception of it, but because he'd made me be upset.  That wasn't what I wanted.  "I know my stuff had to be dealt with so we could be okay...I know that.  And I also know none of your stuff is like that at all.  But it still doesn't feel fair."

He didn't say anything and I knew he was thinking about it.  Formulating a response that would comfort me, make me feel better.  That wasn't what I wanted either.  But his answer, when he finally responded, surprised me.

"I see what you're saying.  You're right, it's not fair - and I've been an ass about it."  He stroked my hair back off my face and tried to turn my head so he could look at me, but I held on around his waist with my arms.  "Sweetheart, I'm sorry.  I never thought about it like that and I should have.  I should have been trading secret for secret with you.  It's just that...well, I didn't think of it because I don't really have anything I would consider a secret.  It's all just silly nonsense, really.  For me to trade you my Amsterdam story in exchange for one of your Eric stories would have been an insult to you and everything you've been through." He bent over to kiss the side of my head.  "There's nothing even remotely important in my past, Anna...nothing that I would consider worthy of even one of your secrets."

 

We made love, quickly the first time, coming fast with noisy groans and hard thrusts, then more slowly, our bodies not in as much of a hurry to race to their releases the second time.  We rested a bit and then Tom stirred behind me, waking from the drowsy doze he'd fallen into, and slipped his arms around me.  One long arm stretched down between my thighs to tentatively touch me, causing me to wince and squeeze my legs tightly together.

"No?" he asked quietly, stilling his hand.

"I'm a little raw," I whispered back, apologetically.  He moved his hand back up to my stomach and stroked my belly, his fingertips lightly tracing over my scars.

"Would you like me to draw you a warm bath?"

I thought about it for a moment, considering it seriously.  A bath sounded lovely, but as tired as I was, I figured I would fall asleep within minutes.  I would never last in the relaxing cocoon of warm water.  "I'm really sleepy...but I still feel kind of...aroused."

Tom moaned a little at the back of my neck, his hips pushing forward to press into my bottom.  "Would you like me to lick you to completion?" he murmured, his hand trailing back down again to stop just above my clit, pressing gently into the soft plump flesh there.  "I wouldn't want you to have trouble sleeping."

"Mmmn hmmn," I nodded, letting him turn me over onto my back to kiss me.  "That thing you did earlier - that worked."

He looked confused for a moment, then realization brought a grin to his lips.  "Ah...leaving you wanting.  And now you can't get enough?"

I nodded again, closing my eyes tight as he started nuzzling his way down my chest to my stomach, continuing lower until he was right where I wanted him.  I held my breath, anticipating that first agonizingly delicious lick from his tongue, groaning loudly when it finally came.  I reached down to tangle my hands in his hair, raising my knees to cradle his head between my legs.

"No foursomes," I whispered as his soft warm tongue found its way into my body.  His breath tickled my sensitive folds as he laughed softly.

"Okay...no foursomes, sweetheart."

 

In the morning I pulled out one of my boxes that I hadn't unloaded yet, searching for my earrings.  I only had one pair and I wasn't wearing them when we'd made our escape.  I was getting irritated because I knew they had to be there, but I wasn't having any luck finding them.

"Might they be in this box?" Tom asked, pulling out a little porcelain trinket box with delicately painted pink roses on the lid.  I stared at it, shaking my head.

"That shouldn't be in here.  I didn't tell them to pack that."

Tom looked confused, still holding the box in his hand.

"Put it down.  Put it away.  Somewhere, I don't care where, I don't want to see it."

"Anna, what's wrong?"  He immediately pushed the box under the sofa and reached for me, worry etching his face as he gripped my shoulders, obviously preparing himself for the worst.  He moved over next to me on the floor and pulled me up tightly against him, circling me with his arms.  "I'm sorry, I sent the packers a message saying to put in anything that looked like it might have sentimental value.  It's my fault."

"It's okay," I assured him, though it didn't feel okay to me.  But I was in control, I didn't feel like I was going to lose it.  I swallowed hard and reached under the sofa, pulling the box back out.  "This is the one thing Eric ever gave me, other than bruises and a fear of intimacy.  Back when we were happy, at the start.  Before everything that happened."

Tom's face fell, completely.  I felt horrible for taking his joy away and touched his cheek, urging him to look at me, but his eyes were on the little box in my hand.

"What are you going to do with it?" he finally asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

I sighed, opening the lid, gasping in disbelief when my earrings fell out.  The packers must have found them on the dresser and put them in the box to protect them.  I picked them up from my lap and put them on, then handed the box to Tom again.  "I'd like to smash it, but I'm almost afraid to."

He nodded, seemingly lost in thought.  After several long moments, he finally looked at me again.  "How about we drop it in the Thames?"

I couldn't stop the smile that I suddenly felt spreading across my face.  "That's perfect.  Can we do it now?"

He stood up and held his hand down to me.  "Right now, baby.  Come on"

 

An immeasurable weight dropped off my shoulders as I drew back and threw the box as hard as I could, watching it arc gracefully in the air before beginning its downward spiral into the river.  It barely made a splash when it hit the water, and the moment it was gone I threw my arms around Tom and buried my face in the front of his coat.  I didn't know why I was crying, exactly, but the tears were hot and bitter and felt all the better for getting them out.  He held me and stroked my hair, watching over my head for the police since we were parked illegally on the bridge.

"We will get through this, sweetheart," he comforted me, kissing my hair.  "We will, I promise you.  We will survive all of this and walk out the other side, holding hands and smiling."

I sniffled and hugged him tighter.  "How do you know that?"

"Because I have no doubt that the love I have for you and the love you have for me is strong enough to make it."

A loud sob burst out of my throat at his words and in that moment I made my final decision concerning our future.  "Then marry me," I said, turning my face up to look at him.  "Right now."

He looked down at me, a wide smile breaking across his face as he pushed my hair back out of my eyes.  The wind was whipping around us, cold and biting, but neither of us cared.  "Okay then.  Shall I call Chris and Eva?  We'll need witnesses."

"Yes...call them."

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and smiled at me as he quick-dialed Chris's number.

"Big brother - I need you.  Protocol 35.  Urgent."

I heard Chris's voice through the phone, loud and clear.  He was obviously taking this serious.  "How urgent?"

"Urgent as in right now.  We're headed to the chapel."

"Where?"

"Registrar's office in Mayfair."

"Lemme get Eva out of the tub, we'll be there in twenty."

He hung up, looking both ways for traffic as he took my hand and led me back across the bridge to the car.

"What is Protocol 35?"

He grinned as he tucked his phone back into his pocket and opened the passenger side door for me.  "It's code for 'I'm getting married, get over here and either talk me out of it or stand with me at the altar'."

I got into the car and he buckled me in.  I was starting to feel excited, a sudden light sensation of happiness washing over me.  "What's the thirty-five?  Are there protocols one through thirty-four?"

"It's a joke we've had between us for years - he bet me once that I wouldn't get married before I turned thirty five."  He clicked my seatbelt and kissed me before he shut the door, running around the car to get in on the driver's side.

"Oh...so, it's not like sixty-six when the clones slaughtered the Jedi, then."

He threw his head back and laughed.  "Sixty-six might actually have been less exciting than this.  I'm only three months away from turning thirty-five."

"Well...we better hurry then, hadn't we."

"Absolutely."  He started the car and put it into gear, flashing me an enormous grin.

 

"Here it is," he said as he settled in next to me on the bench outside the registrar's office, taking my hand and looking at me with the most earnest face I've ever seen on him.  His eyes were full of longing and apprehension, but something told me it had nothing to do with second thoughts.

"Here what is?"

"Your last chance to change your mind."  He pulled my hand up to his lips and kissed my knuckles, his eyes never leaving mine.

I smiled, watching past his shoulder as the door at the far end of the hallway opened and Chris and Eva came rushing toward us, their smiles every bit as big as ours.  I brought my eyes back to his and reached up to brush an errant curl back off his forehead.  "Now why would I want to do that?"

 

_To be continued..._


	31. Chapter 31

 

 

Our first night as a married couple was spent with a houseful of friends.  Chris and Eva came home with us and stayed; phone calls were made, beer was delivered, and before long people started showing up, laughing and congratulating and hugging, bringing bottles of wine and the happy sounds of celebration.  Tom and I moved to the kitchen to cook everyone some dinner while our guests chatted and drank, filling our house with a warm buzz that was wonderfully satisfying.

 _Our house_.  Funny how coming home with a piece of paper changing my last name suddenly made this place my home.  Tom had been telling me for months that it was mine, but it never felt that way until the moment he hefted me into his arms and carried me inside, with our marriage certificate tucked into his back pocket and Eva's and Chris's wedding rings on our fingers.  "We'll remedy that soon," he told me as I wiggled the gold band off and gave it back to Eva.  I knew he had been waiting to get me a ring until I was settled and he knew for sure that I was going to stay...I'd been so flighty ever since he met me, I felt bad that he was always on edge wondering if I was going to just pack up my few belongings and run.  But now it was fairly obvious I was staying.

The party went on all night...I didn't know if this was a British custom or if Tom's friends were just an exceptionally social bunch of people, but somewhere around three in the morning we headed upstairs to get some rest while our guests applauded and then went back to drinking and dancing.  We were exhausted - it had been a very long day, happy but tiring, and we just wanted to grab a little sleep before figuring out what to do next.  Tom would be leaving for some work soon, not a long job but it involved travel, and there was another big event coming up that he was both officiating and being honored at.  I had another appointment with the specialist coming up, hopefully to be given permission to start trying for a baby finally.  And then there was the whole ordeal of announcing our sudden marriage to the world.  We didn't know how we were going to handle it, but thankfully it wasn't something that had to be decided tonight.  Tonight we just wanted to fall into bed and not worry about any of it.

Tom looked so happy as he changed for bed and brushed his teeth;  I watched him through the bathroom door as he danced around with that completely un-selfconscious air of a man who hasn't a care in the world.  I envied him that, his ability to just take everything in stride and keep smiling.  I went into the bathroom and hugged him from behind, laying my head on his back and letting him sway us back and forth, humming along to the song that was playing loudly from downstairs.

"My friends don't seem to know when enough is enough," he laughed, spitting his toothpaste into the sink.  "They'll probably still be here in the morning when we go down for breakfast."

"Mmm, so long as they make bacon I don't care."

He loosened my arms from around his middle and turned to face me, leaning back on the sink and bringing me up against him again.  "Hello, Mrs Hiddleston."

I rested my chin in the middle of his chest, looking up at him.  "Hello, Mr Black.

He broke into amused laughter, raising his eyebrows.  "Actually that works for me.  Sounds like an action hero, a Mad Max kinda guy.   _Tom Black."_

"Tom Hardy's already got that niche nailed down."

"Oh that's who I was thinking of.  Actually I think he might be in our kitchen right now."

I giggled and nuzzled my face into his teeshirt.  "You need to call your mom and your sisters."

"Yes I do.  Do you mind if I do it now?  I won't take long."

"Go ahead," I said, yawning, turning to head toward the bed.  "I'm too tired for screwing tonight anyway.  Goodnight."  I waved at him as I left the bathroom and he started laughing.

"This may be the first wedding night in history that didn't involve sex."

"We are trendsetters...trailblazers...too tired to fuck."  I sprawled across the bed, face down with my feet hanging off the side.  "Oh and don't forget to call Luke."   _Oh god...Luke...he was going to have a stroke._

 

In the morning I ventured downstairs, leaving Tom asleep with his head under the pillow, snoring softly and taking up most of the bed with his completely sprawled body. _So this is married bedsharing,_ I thought with a mental eyeroll.  He no longer stays politely on his side of the bed, it's all his now.  I pulled on his bathrobe and staggered slowly down the stairs.

Someone was in the kitchen and I could smell food cooking.  The livingroom wasn't as wrecked as I had imagined it would be - there might have been a party raging all night, but it was a party attended by a polite group of people who apparently believed in good manners even if one is vomiting drunk.  Someone was asleep on the sofa, but they were face down so I couldn't tell who they were.  I stuck my head in the kitchen door and found Chris at the stove, flipping pancakes, looking like a giant iHop cook.

"Hey, birthday girl."

"It's not my birthday," I mumbled, sitting down at the table as he put a plate of eggs in front of me.

"Birthday, anniversary, bar mitzvah, whatever we celebrated last night.  I've forgotten."

"Drank a lot, did we?"  I looked back into the livingroom.  "Where's Eva?"

"At her mom's with the kids.  Where's Tom?"

"In bed, snoring."

He slid some pancakes across the table and sat down with an exaggerated huff.  "I can't believe you guys did that.  I'm glad though.  It was time."

"Time?"  I took a big bite of eggs and got up to get the milk from the fridge.  "Time for what?"

"Time for Tom to settle down.  Even better that he did it with someone he loves."  He pointed at me with his fork.  "That would be you."

"Oh thank god," I said sarcastically.  "Since, you know, I went to the registrar's office with him yesterday and all."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, eating our breakfast.  I started to feel a giggle coming up and thumped a chunk of orange peel, landing it squarely in the middle of Chris's plate.  When he looked up I said, "Protocol 35?"

He just nodded, chewing with his mouth open, grinning.  "Protocol 35.  He beat it by what?  Three months?"

"What would have happened if he didn't?"

"Piccadilly Square at high noon in his boxers.  Signing autographs with no explanation about his attire.  All requests for photos accepted, no exceptions."

"Damn, you guys are ruthless."  I thought about it for a minute.  "So, its possible he married me just to avoid all that?"

"To avoid all what?"

I jumped and spun around;  Tom was standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes.

"Well there's the birthday boy," Chris said around a mouthful of toast.

"It's not my birthday."

"No, it's mine," I muttered as I tipped my head to let him kiss my cheek.

"Is it?"

"Apparently."

Tom pulled out a chair and sat down, grinning sleepily when Chris pushed a plate of pancakes over in front of him.  "Who's that on the sofa?"

Chris and I both shrugged.  The three of us sat in a quiet, comfortable silence for a while, eating our breakfast, until finally Chris pushed his plate away and sat back.  "Party's over for me kids, I gotta get back to the in-laws and look after the hellspawn while Eva and her mom shirk their female responsibilities in favor of a 'mother daughter day', whatever that is."  He rolled his eyes and got up to put his dishes in the sink. "You want me to roust the hobo off the sofa on my way out?"

"Naw, it might be Tom Hardy.  Let him sleep."

"Hardy was here?  Cool."  He bent over to give me a whiskery kiss on the cheek and then reached across to slap high fives with Tom, so hard that he nearly knocked him out of his chair.  "Great party, we'll have to do it again the next time you get married."

Tom laughed, that easy, wide open mouthed laugh that just oozed infectious joy.  "It won't be me," he grinned, winking at me from across the table.  "Maybe Hardy out there.  I'm done, this is it for me."  He reached across and put his hand on the table, wiggling his fingers till I put my hand in his.  There was a loud outburst from the livingroom just then and we heard the front door slam shut as Chris left, then a few moments later a very naked tattooed man appeared in the kitchen doorway, rubbing his eyes and yawning.  Tom turned around just in time to find himself at face level with some very exposed male equipment.

"Oh geezus fuck, Hardy, put some damn pants on!"

 

Breakfast with a naked man wearing a dish towel draped across his lap bits should really have been more uncomfortable than it was, but we were in a good mood so we let it slide.  When he finally located his clothes and left, wishing us both a long and happy life together, Tom and I waved goodbye from the front porch and then looked at each other, breaking into laughter as we went back inside.  

We were _married._

 

My checkup was later that week and Tom gave me a pep talk about not getting disappointed if we didn't get the news we wanted - but I could see in his eyes that he was the one who would be crushed if the outcome wasn't positive.  "It'll be okay," I reassured him, stroking his brow.  "I'm not even nervous.  Whatever happens, happens."  He smiled and gave me a kiss, but that afternoon as we sat in the waiting room at the clinic, he fidgeted and squirmed in his chair, unable to sit still.  

When my name was finally called, we followed the nurse to the exam room and waited for Dr Paige, me sitting on the table in my little paper exam gown, cold and slightly humiliated, Tom searching the room for a blanket.  He finally found one in a drawer under the table and put it around me, tugging it closed in front and kissing me on the nose.

"No matter how this goes, remember that I love you."

"It'll be okay, Tom.  Stop worrying.  Everything looked good last time, remember?"

"Yes, I know, but...I just...I really want this to happen for us."

I pressed my hand against his face, felt his scratchy soft beard and the warmth of his skin.  He was so real, everything about him.  Alive and real and so very wonderfully human.  I pulled him down by his collar to where I could reach and gave him a kiss, smoothing his hair back, loving the way his eyes closed when my fingers brushed through his curls.  I was kissing his eyelids to relax him when Doctor Paige came in, clearing his throat to announce his presence.

"Lets get this show on the road, shall we?" he said with a smile as Tom moved out of the way.  "I can see that you're both ready to move on to the next step."

I looked over at Tom, expecting to find him blushing madly, but he looked so nervous again as he sat down and leaned forward to listen, his eyes intent on Doctor Paige as he outlined what today's exam would entail.  When the briefing was finished I sighed and did as I was told, scooting down to the end of the table and putting my feet in the stirrups, laying back and trying to relax as the cold instruments came out.  At one point I flinched hard and bit my lip and Tom was immediately at my side, squeezing my hand, kissing my cheek and telling me it was okay.  Suddenly overcome by an unexpected wave of emotion too heavy to ignore, I turned my face to his and hid my tears against his chin for a moment until I had myself under control again.

"It's okay, babe," Tom whispered, squeezing my hand and pulling it to his mouth to kiss my fingers.  "No matter what."

 

Afterward, we sat in Doctor Paige's office waiting for him to come from the lab with my results.  Tom rubbed the back of my hand and leaned over toward me, giving me that comforting smile he was so good at. "Darling, I want you to know, no matter what your labs say today, it's alright.  I promise you.  No matter which way this goes, I will always love you."

I nodded, too anxious myself to bother scolding him for being so worried.  I didn't know what else to say, so I just returned his smile and said, "I love you too."

Doctor Paige came in a few seconds later with my file open in his hands, reading until he got to his desk;  he dropped the file onto the blotter and sat down, looking from me to Tom and back again.  We both watched him closely for any hint of which way this was going to go, but the man had a poker face like nothing I've ever seen.

"So, what's the word?" Tom finally asked, his voice cracking with nerves.

"The word is...good.  Everything looks fantastic.  In fact if you want to go home right now and make a baby, you have my blessing."

 _"FUCK!"_ Tom yelled, forgetting himself completely as he jumped out of his chair with a giant smile on his face.  "Oh sorry!  Shit!"  He turned to me, his entire face lit up with joy.  "Did you hear that sweetheart?!"

"I heard."

"Oh my god...doc, thank you."  He stuck his hand out and Doctor Paige stood and shook it, smiling broadly himself.

"I love a happy ending."  He turned to me and handed me an instruction sheet and some other papers.  "Discontinue the hormone patch immediately, start taking prenatal vitamins - there's a prescription there - and just relax, don't try to rush things, it'll happen when it happens.  It might take a little while, but I honestly don't see any reason why you should have any trouble conceiving."  He turned to Tom and handed him a stack of booklets.  "I understand you like medical pamphlets.  These should keep you busy for a little while."

Tom took the booklets happily and thanked the doctor again as he left the room to allow us a few minutes to pull ourselves together.  Once he was gone, Tom pulled me up out of my chair and hugged me tightly to him and I could feel his heart beating against my cheek, so hard and fast that it made me laugh.  I knew my own was pounding pretty hard, but Tom's felt ready to race right out of his chest.

"Lets go get our wedding rings," he said as he finally broke the hug and kissed my forehead.  "I think it's a pretty fair assumption that you'll be sticking around now."

I looked down at my hand, at my bare fingers.  I'd never really been one to wear rings;  I didn't even really know what size I wore.  But the idea of wearing Tom's ring felt good, and I nodded as I smiled up at him. "Yeah, you should buy me a diamond at the very least, if I'm going to have your kids."

 

I fell across the bed on my back, holding my hand up in front of my face to look at my ring for the thousandth time.  It was so pretty, so sparkly and elegant.  I had told Tom I wanted something simple, but he wouldn't hear of it, giving the clerk instructions to only show us the fancy stuff and vetoing the trays of smaller diamonds without even letting me look at them.  In the end we had both compromised and I'd chosen something in between - a sweet heart shaped white diamond in white gold, with a wide white gold band that matched the one Tom was now wearing. 

"Good timing, we're down to our last two condoms," he said with a wry laugh from across the room at the dresser.  "It will feel so good to touch you directly again without one of these in the way."  He dropped the box back into the drawer and closed it.  "Bye bye guys."

"Did you really just say _bye bye_ to a box of condoms?"

"Yes, yes I did."

He undressed himself as he crossed the room to the bed, looking down at me with a rising hunger in his eyes as he undid his pants and slipped them off.  He'd worn underwear that day and I could see his erection already jutting out the front of his boxers.  "You have on entirely too many clothes," he said huskily, his gaze raking hotly over me where I lay sprawled on the bed.  "I can see I'm going to have to do something about that."  Squeezing my thighs gently, he knelt over me and pulled up the bottom of my shirt with his teeth, going back to my belly to press his lips softly to my bare skin.  "Just think," he murmured as he planted kisses all around my bellybutton, his fingers gliding up over my hip to tap gently on my stomach.  "We're going to grow a baby in here."

I closed my eyes, shivering from the heated touch of his mouth as he began alternating licks and kisses with softly blown breaths across the damp trail he left behind.   _A baby_.  The thought was almost overwhelming, the realization that this was finally, really going to happen.  I felt his cock rubbing against my knee and suddenly felt apprehensive.

"Tom," I whispered, pushing against his shoulders with my hands;  it came out as more of a whimper than I intended and he groaned, mistaking my protest for arousal.  "Tom, wait."

He moaned softly against my stomach, then I felt his eyelashes brush my skin as he opened his eyes.  His head came up and he looked me in the face, concern raising one of his eyebrows.  "What's wrong darling?"

I sat up, scooting him off me and pushing my shirt back down.  "I don't...I don't want..."

His eyebrow went up further and I could tell he was balancing his worry over my sudden slamming on of the brakes with confusion over what I was trying to say.  "You don't want to make love right now?" he guessed, the disappointment obvious in his face.  I shook my head and put my hands over my eyes, trying to figure out how to say this right.  I didn't want to hurt his feelings but it seemed really important to me that we do this right.

"No no no...I don't want us to...if we're going to make a baby I don't think we should - "  I was flustered and stammering and it was irritating me to the point of anger at myself.

"Just say it, sweetheart."

"I just think it should be a certain way.  I don't want to look at our kid in a couple of years and have flashbacks to a wild night of unrestrained abandon and screaming and swearwords and...and...you're laughing at me."

Tom was listening closely, but his face had cracked into a grin that was perilously close to an outburst of amusement.  He shook his head, trying to keep himself from losing it.

"No, no darling - I know exactly what you're saying.  If we're going to make a baby, it shouldn't happen from fucking.  It should happen from making love."  He reached up to touch my cheek, his grin turning quickly into a warm smile.  "I agree wholeheartedly.  It will be tender and sweet and beautiful and romantic and I promise I won't say a single swear word."

I sighed, relieved that he understood.  I started unbuttoning my shirt as he reached over and got his iPod from the bedside table and started shuffling through it.  "What sort of music would you like?  Classical, jazz, movie soundtracks?"

"You have movie soundtracks on there?"

"Yep.  How does 9 1/2 Weeks sound?"

"Umm...no."

"No?  It's got some great songs - "

I scooted to the edge of the bed to wiggle out of my jeans.  "No child of mine is going to be conceived to BDSM music.  No."

Tom laughed, nodding in begrudging agreement.  "You're probably right.  How about LaBoheme?"

"Wow that's really a jump...naughty kink to tragic opera."  I shook my head.

"The Full Monty?"

"Just put it on shuffle please and come here."

He turned it on and set it on the table, climbing up on the bed to straddle me as I laid back in my panties and bra.  His eyes went down to my breasts as he hooked a finger in the top of my bra cup, tugging it down just far enough to expose my nipple, lowering his head to suck it into his mouth and massage it with his tongue and lips.  I groaned and let my head drop back.

"Do you know how much I love you?" he whispered, teasing me, nudging his nose into my breast as his lips tugged at my nipple, sending a thrilling shiver through my stomach straight down to my crotch.  His lips moved across to my other breast and he tugged that cup down too, kissing his way to the sensitive tip that was quickly stiffening in anticipation of his attention.  

"I have a fair idea," I murmured, my body twisting and squirming under him.  I couldn't be still, I wanted him inside me so badly that it hurt and my hands went to his head, tugging at his hair.  "Please Tom..."

He raised his head and looked at me, his eyes dark with desire.  Holding my gaze, he slipped his hand down between us and into the front of my panties, sliding his fingers up under me to push between my legs. I was slick and wet already and they went in easily, drawing a gasp from my throat as he probed me gently, his thumb moving up to press into my clit.  My breath started coming in a quick, panting rhythm as he stroked me and pushed his fingers in and out slowly, grinning at how quickly my panties got soaked from just this simple touch.  When I arched my back to push my hips up, he tugged my panties down and grasped the backs of my thighs, spreading my legs, pulling them up around him.

"Guide me in sweetheart," he whispered in a raspy voice full of need.  "Set the pace for us, show me how you want me to take you."  He took my hand and pulled it down between us and I slipped my fingers under the waistband of his boxers to push them down.  His fully erect cock sprang free and I gripped it as it pressed against my stomach, giving it a couple of firm strokes before guiding him down between my legs and rubbing the head against my folds.  His halting groan let me know that he was every bit as turned on as I was, and as I slowly edged just the tip of his penis into me, I felt his entire body tense and stiffen with the effort of holding back.  I angled my hips up further and pushed him in, tugging him down by his hips to urge him into me all the way.  He slid in easily with a deep, almost pained moan and thrust once to seat himself completely into me.  

Settling his weight onto my hips and his elbows at either side of my head, he pressed his forehead to mine and closed his eyes.  We lay like that, listening to each other's breathing, our bodies joined and throbbing with the need to push against one another;  but we stayed still, letting our heartbeats find each other, finally allowing our lips to touch and our hips to seek out the pleasure of mutual friction as we began slowly feeding our desire.  It was deeply satisfying and we whispered breathlessly into heated skin, licking sensually over throbbing pulsepoints, touching and stroking and reaching as far into one another's souls as our flesh and blood bodies would allow.   I rose slowly to an agonizing peak that he kept me teetering at the brink of until I thought I would lose my mind, then with a feverishly whispered _"I love you Anna,"_ he pushed me over the edge, letting me fall endlessly, then letting his own enraptured face be the first thing I saw when he caught me.  His eyes closed as mine opened, and I felt him throb deep within me just moments later.

When he released into me, the sensation of his semen filling me was strangely exciting.  The last time I'd felt this was in Spain and I had forgotten how much I loved it, the heat, the stickiness, the violent spurting rush as he emptied inside my body.  When it happened, I gasped and grabbed his shoulders, my eyes flying open in surprise, and he stopped moving, thinking he had hurt me. "No," I assured him.  "I just...I'd forgotten how incredible that feels."

He smiled and sighed with relief, letting his head fall next to mine.  "It's pretty incredible from this side, too," he whispered against my cheek, his warm breath caressing my face.  "I love you, sweetheart.  Is it okay if I stay inside you for a while?"

I nodded, kissing his nose.  "Please do."  He shifted a bit so that his weight wasn't crushing my ribs and settled half on and half off me, pulling my hip up a bit so that we were still joined without any space between us from the waist down.  I could feel the liquid beginning to drip slowly out of me, but with his body acting as something of a cork, maybe enough would stay in to increase our chances of getting lucky. He sighed deeply and held me close, nibbling at my shoulder, his fingers entwining with mine as our hands slowly stroked my stomach together.

 

"You know you'll have to stop drinking coffee now."

"I know," I said sadly, staring into my cup.  "But it'll be worth it."

"And don't forget to take your vitamins - you need to get into the habit of taking them every morning with breakfast.  And yes, you _will_ be eating breakfast."

I glared at him as he walked to the sink to put his dishes in it, letting my face go blank when he turned around again.  He sat back down across from me and pulled one of his medical booklets out of his back pocket, opening it to a page that he had earmarked and starting to read to me out of it.  "It says here that your body will need to store more fat to increase your probability of getting pregnant if you're underweight or of slight stature."  He eyed me, sizing me up unabashedly.  "You look pretty healthy, but you could stand to gain a couple of pounds."

"I'm not underweight, Tom."

"No, no, you're not...but you'll be more fertile if you have a little bit of extra on you.  I'm sure we can do something about that."  His eyes fell to my plate and he got a disapproving look when he noticed I hadn't finished my eggs.  I silently dared him to say anything, but to his credit, he refrained from scolding me and instead got up to kiss me.  "I'm going for my run sweetheart.  When I get back we can give it another go."

I nodded and waited for him to leave, anxious to go back to bed and sleep a little more while he was gone.  He'd kept me up for most of the night;  I'd lost track of how many times we had made love, but I knew it was more than one hands' worth of fingers.  I was sore and achy and needed just a bit more rest before I could feel human again. The door swung shut behind him as he left and a gust of wind blew through the kitchen, blowing the calendar off the refrigerator door onto the floor...I picked it up and was fastening it back onto the fridge when I noticed he had drawn a big red circle around the day we got married with the scribbled words, "First day of our future".Yesterday's date was also circled, the day we'd gotten the go-ahead to get pregnant, and in that box he had written, "Second day of our future."

I sat back down at the table, taking the calendar with me, not sure if I should laugh at his childish excitement or cry over his sweetness.  He had also circled the next date my period was due, with a question mark under the date.  He knew as well as I did that this could take some time, but he was still going to keep track of every important day, track my ovulation and cycles, the whole nine yards.  He was going to take it seriously so I wouldn't have to.  He had his booklets and medical pamphlets and his red pen to mark dates on the calendar, and no doubt had Doctor Paige's nurse on his speed dial for questions his research couldn't answer.  He had kissed my bare stomach that morning when he woke up, whispering something I couldn't quite hear into my bellybutton.  And in that moment, sitting there staring out the window with that scribbled up calendar in my hands, my thumb absently turning my shiny new wedding ring around and around on my finger, it all became overwhelmingly real and I felt such a rush of emotion that I didn't know how to react to it.  I assumed I would cry and Tom would come back to find me with my head on the table, sobbing helplessly, but as the breeze suddenly blew the door open again I noticed something interesting.  The wind on my face didn't feel icy where it hit the wet trail of tears streaming down my cheeks.  Because there were no tears.  Instead, I found myself smiling like a loon, giggling as my hands went to rub my stomach.

"Don't let us down,"  I said, giving it a pat, wondering if that was what Tom had whispered that morning.

 

_ To be continued...  _


	32. Chapter 32

 

That evening I got dressed in my nicest casual clothes and waited nervously in the front room for Tom's family to arrive.  I was meeting his mother and one of his sisters for the first time and I was more nervous about this than I had been about getting married.  "You'll be fine, darling," Tom had reassured me a dozen times over the course of the afternoon, once the arrangements were confirmed.  "They're going to love you."  He pressed his hand to my belly and spread his fingers wide, covering almost my entire stomach.  "The prospect of more grandchildren will soften mum up for sure."

"Oh god Tom, please don't tell her we're trying - please?"  He looked at me, confused, and asked why.  "Because what if it doesn't happen?  I don't know if I could stand being a disappointment to someone besides myself."

He looked dumbfounded for a moment, just staring at me with his mouth open.  "Darling," he finally said quietly, "How could you feel like that? How could you ever think you would be a disappointment to anyone?  Any difficulty we might have certainly won't be your fault and you know it."  He reached out to smooth my hair back off my shoulder and smiled reassuringly.  "Now stop that, right this instant.  I won't have you thinking that way."

I nodded, swallowing hard to keep back the tears that were starting to burn my eyes.  I didn't want to be a sniveling mess when Tom's family arrived.  I'd been doing so good, staying positive, putting the past behind me and all but forgetting about Eric and all the awful things that my mind connected to him.  But I was feeling stressed and it had a tendency to bring things out of my subconscious that were better left stashed away.

"I know," I whispered.  "I'm sorry."

Tom kissed my forehead and I felt his shoulders tense where my hands were resting;  the sound of a cab pulling up outside pricked up both our ears and we looked at each other with wide eyes, his bright with excitement, mine with borderline panic.

"Chin up, darling.  They're going to _love you."_

 

Tom's mother stepped into the house, her eyes darting around excitedly until they found me standing by the window, nervously clutching the TV remote.  I didn't know why I'd picked it up, just to have something to do with my hands I suppose...but when she saw me her face melted into a wide smile that looked so much like Tom's, I instantly felt at ease.  Tom was still at the door hugging his sister and looked over anxiously at me, obviously worried about whether or not I was going to hold it together.

"Oh my," she said through that enormous, warm smile as she took my hands and held them out to my sides.  "Aren't you a lovely thing!"  I smiled back nervously, looking past her at Tom, not sure what I was supposed to say in response.  But I didn't have to fret about it for long because she suddenly threw her arms around me and hugged me tight, kissing my cheeks and squeezing my face while Tom grinned at me. "My new daughter, oh I've wanted to meet you for so long dear!"

"Mum, we've only been married for a week," Tom said, laughing, as he hung their coats by the door.  "That's not terribly long to wait."

"She was always the one, Thomas," she said in a half scolding tone, still smiling proudly at me.  "When you called from Spain and said you'd met a woman, I knew it then, just by your voice."  She tapped my nose. " _New daughter."_

Tom had always been prone to high color in his cheeks, but when I looked at him again I swore I could see the blush rising.  His sister saved him further embarrassment by coming to me with her arms open, squeezing me tight.  "It _is_ good to finally meet you.  He might play innocent, but we've known about you for quite some time."

"Is that right."  I shot him a look, but he was hugging his mom, hiding his face against her shoulder.

 

That night Tom made love to me with a different kind of passion - he'd always been intense but lighthearted, attentive and observant, but that night his attentions took on a new aspect.  He seemed to have a _purpose,_ something other than giving and getting pleasure.  Something deeper, more personal.  He talked to me the entire time, whispering into my ear and my skin but speaking out loud more than usual, his words comforting and supportive.  He knew I'd been nervous about meeting his family.  Once they'd left, he had hugged me tight and kissed the top of my head, telling me how proud he was of me, how well the evening had gone.  And now as he joined his body to mine, his words caressing over me with his hands and breath and lips, I lay still beneath him and listened, wondering if he was talking to me or to himself.

_It's alright sweetheart...we can do this...just relax, let it happen..._

 

In the morning I went up behind him at the bathroom sink as he brushed his teeth, slipping my arms around his waist to kiss his back and lay my head against him.  He reached back with one arm to pat my hip.

"You called your mom from Spain and told her about me?"

He choked a little on his toothpaste, spitting it out and rinsing quickly to avoid looking at me in the mirror.  "Um, yeah, I did," he stammered, wiping his chin.

"Hmm."

"Hmm what?"

I stroked my hands up and down his sides;  he had already taken his shower and was still wet, a towel wrapped around his hips, and I toyed with the bit where it was tucked under in a makeshift knot.  "At what point in our budding relationship did this phone call take place, exactly?"

He thought about it a moment, that rush of color coming into his cheeks again.  "I believe it was...right about the time we got caught by the paps at the hotel."

"Interesting.  Before or after?"

"After."

I stepped away from him, leaning against the sink so I could look directly at his face instead of his reflection in the mirror.  "You mean after I threw that fit, you still called her to tell her about me?"

He nodded, his face breaking into a smile.  "You want to know why?"

"Yes, please."

He hitched his hands under my arms and lifted me up onto the sink, moving in between my knees to anchor me.  "Because I knew at that point that I wanted you in my life forever.  I'd already known before that, but when the lobby thing happened, and you obeyed me and followed me out and smiled for the cameras when I told you to, even though I _knew_ it was the last thing on earth that you wanted to do...you still did it for me.  You did your best, and then when it was over you ripped into me for making you do it, you let me know in no uncertain terms that I couldn't treat you like that and get away with it."  He leaned in and kissed the tip of my nose, leaving a little smudge of toothpaste from his lips. "You did what you had to for me, and then you set me straight once we were away from the situation, away from all other eyes. _That_ is a good woman, one definitely worth keeping.  And my mum told me so when I told her what happened."

"Were you afraid she was going to see the pictures and roll her eyes at your latest bit of fanny?"

He made an exaggerated "Oooh" face and smacked my thigh with the flat of his hand.  "You know that's a bad word, right?"

"Of course I do.  I've been here long enough to figure a few things out."  I tugged at the front of his towel, bringing him close again.  "Is _that_ why you really called her?"

He grinned, dipping his head to try to take a nip at the side of my neck.  "Nope.  I really called her because I wanted to tell her about you.  After the way you handled that situation, I just...I wanted her to know about you.  It made us feel more - "

I waited for him to finish, tickling his bare belly with the backs of my fingers, just above the towel.

_" - real."_

I let him catch my lips then and he pulled me into a deep kiss, tugging me forward so that my butt was just barely on the sink as my legs went around his back.  His towel dropped to the floor and he separated his mouth from mine just long enough to look down at it and whisper, "Oops."

As he lifted me completely from the sink and started back toward the bed with me, I hugged his neck tightly and sighed against his still damp skin.  He smelled like soap and cinnamon from the toothpaste.  "She said she knew I would be her new daughter just by your voice," I said quietly, smiling into the dip at the base of his throat.  "You were in love with me, weren't you."

He laid me gently on the bed and started removing my teeshirt and panties, quickly and expertly stripping me bare before stretching out over me and letting his weight press me into the soft mattress.  "Mnn hmm," he murmured against my chest, where he had begun nuzzling in a warm, tickling motion with his chin and lips.  "Gone.  Completely and utterly arsed.  You had me already."

I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling just hard enough to make him moan.  "You sure you weren't just fannywhipped?"

He started laughing, rolling over off me onto his back and covering his face with his hands.  "Ohh god you naughty girl."  He looked at me from between his fingers.  "Okay, maybe there was a _bit_ of that.  But trust me darling, no matter how good the _fanny_ is, if a woman isn't willing to help her man out and wait till they're alone to rip him a new arsehole for acting like a dick, then it's not going to last."  He turned onto his side and ran one broad, warm hand across my stomach.  "All men want a spitfire...so long as _they're_ the only ones who see the fire."

"Or feel it?" I teased, taking his hand and guiding it down lower.  He opened his mouth and pressed it to my shoulder, swirling his tongue around in circles on my skin as he let me move his hand between my thighs.

"Or feel it," he agreed.  

 

Chris and Eva were still in London and we spent a lot of time with them over the next few days - Eva took me shopping while the boys did whatever it is boys do when left alone without women, and then we rejoined them at the house, hefting in our bags of purchases, mostly groceries interspersed with a bit of lingerie.  She had inspected my dismal supply of sexy underthings and declared that Tom's credit card needed a spanking.

"What do you wear to bed?" she'd asked disdainfully when a search of my dresser drawer turned up nothing but an oversized teeshirt - one of Tom's - along with one bra and a couple pairs of undies.

"That shirt.  I mean, it doesn't really stay on long...I don't see the point of fancy night clothes, they're just going to end up on the floor aren't they?"

She had rolled her eyes at me and huffed, dropping the shirt back into the drawer like it offended her feminine sensibilities.  "Darling, that's the whole point.  You look hot in it and then it ends up on the floor. But for those few minutes before he yanks it off your body, you are a _goddess_ in his eyes."

And so we had hit Victoria's Secret, and the clerk had smiled at me with recognition.  "Is Mr Hiddleston with you today?"

I returned her smile, trying to be indulgent of her obvious crush on my husband.

_Husband?  Oh my god...he's my husband._

"No, my husband had other engagements today."  Saying the word to a stranger seemed strange and alien to my tongue, but after I'd said it I felt giddy and hot in the face.  The clerk's expression shifted to surprise and I realized I had just broken the news publicly...this girl in the VS store was the first member of the public to hear it directly from one of us.  It felt exhilarating and liberating and I felt Eva slip her arm through mine, tugging me close.

"Would you get us a fitting room and an assistant, please dear?"

The clerk recovered and her smile reestablished itself on her pretty face.  "Certainly.  We already have Miss Black's - sorry, _Mrs Hiddleston's_ \- measurements on file, I'll get them and Cynthia will be right in to help you."  She waved over another girl to escort us to the fitting rooms, casting a sideways glance at me that I recognized instantly as envy.

"You just broke a little fangirl's heart," Eva whispered to me as we walked away.  To my surprise, I discovered that I didn't even feel bad about it.

 

The evening involved a lot of easygoing conversation and copious amounts of wine.  I could drink as much as I wanted now that I was no longer on medications, so I let myself indulge until I started to feel warm and relaxed, then I put my glass down and snuggled in next to Tom on the sofa.  He and Chris were having an animated discussion about a video game, both of them full half to the gills with the craft beer we'd brought them from our shopping excursion, and he slipped his arm around me without breaking his train of thought.  I felt happy, sitting there against his side, his fingertips absently stroking up and down on my arm as he gestured with the half empty bottle in his other hand to make his point. Chris laughing loudly and shouting "ANOTHER!" as Eva threw him a fresh bottle from behind us.  The stereo playing music behind the friendly sounds of us chatting, just a cheery cacophony of comforting noise that I wanted to cocoon myself into forever.

I felt at home.  At home and at peace.

 

Later, when there was more wine and beer in our bodies than in the bottles, Chris pulled me off the sofa and tugged me up against him for a slow dance in front of Tom, who watched us with sleepy eyes and an approving little smile on his lips.  Eva settled in beside him and slid her arms around his middle, watching us as she sipped her wine, resting her head on Tom's shoulder.  I made a face at her and she winked back at me;  I wasn't even jealous that she was cuddling Tom, and she certainly didn't seem worried about Chris holding me so close.  And then I remembered - _these two people had slept with my husband._

I wasn't sure how to feel about that in light of the current mood in the room.  We all seemed maybe just a little _too_ relaxed and accepting.  I felt Chris's hands slide a little further down my back than I was comfortable with, so I took the opportunity to wriggle out of his arms and hold my hand out to Tom.  "Come with me to the kitchen, I think we need some food."

Tom smiled and reached up to take my hand, letting me tug him up off the sofa with a groan.  He was comfortable and didn't want to get up, but something told me the mood needed to shift quickly or something was going to happen.  I had a worrisome feeling that I knew exactly what it was.

 

"Oh darling, don't worry - they're not trying to seduce us, they're just letting us know that _if_  we felt so inclined...they would be willing."

I gave him a petulant look as I dumped steak tips into a skillet and turned on the burner.

"Would you be... _so inclined?"_

"Only if you were, sweetheart.  Remember, I've been with them before.  I already know what it's like.  I guess I wouldn't be averse to doing it again if the situation was just right."  He reached out to make a grab at me but I sidestepped on my way to the pantry.  "But you're not used to that sort of thing...so it would have to be one hundred percent up to you.  I would follow whatever you decided."

"You wouldn't mind sharing me?"

"Sharing you...?  No, I wouldn't want to share you.  But that's a different thing entirely."  He seemed to be thinking about it, figuring out the politics of a foursome with one's best friends.  "No, I would never _share_ you.  But allowing my best friend to pleasure you, under my strict supervision, obeying my explicit instructions and never varying from what I say to do...it's like, taking care of your woman through a proxy.  And I know Chris, I trust him.  He plays this game with a strict adherence to rules.  He would only do to you what I gave him permission to do."

I avoided his arm again as I returned to the stove, just narrowly.  "How do you know?  How can you be so sure of that?"

"Because it's how he was when I was with him and Eva.  There were _very_ specific things I could and couldn't do with her, and to her.  He watched me carefully and any time he felt I was getting too personal or being too free, he got my attention and made me stop."

"Having sex with the guy's wife isn't _'too personal'?"_

He chuckled a little, a bit of a flush coming to his cheeks.  "I didn't actually have sex with her.  There was a lot of touching during foreplay, kissing, stroking, that sort of thing...I tend to get a little intense when I'm kissing so he made me stop that.  I was allowed to finger her but I couldn't put my cock near her pussy.  Then when we all got down to business, she sucked me off while he fucked her."

I shuddered involuntarily at his coarse description of what they'd done.  But my curiosity was getting the best of me, and I couldn't stop myself from asking more questions as I stirred the skillet.

"Did you and Chris do anything?  You know...to each other?"

He shook his head, yawning.  "Not really.  We're both completely straight so it wasn't really anything we wanted to do.  But we were both  _there,_  you know?  It's hard not to have some contact when you're both enjoying the same woman.  There were moments when our hands went to the same places."

I turned back to the stove to avoid looking at him, not wanting him to see how uncomfortable I was with it all.  "This is just...not strange, not weird, what am I trying to say?   _Different._  Not something I would have expected.  Not something I  _did_  expect."

He grinned.  "Darling, you've always known I can be a bit of a freak.  What part of this honestly surprises you?"

"And Amsterdam?  Good lord, Tom."

"Yeah...Amsterdam."  He laughed.  "That was a trip.  I was so stoned, I have no actual recollection of those events.  The only way I even know what I did was due to Chris retelling that story every damn chance he gets, and of course the pictures."

"There are pictures?"

"Yeah, regrettably.  It's like the ending scene from The Hangover where they finally look in the camera and their entire weekend is suddenly revealed in shocking detail."  He got up and came to me, slipping his arms around me from behind and pulling me close, kissing the side of my neck from behind.  "Nothing will happen here tonight, sweetheart, unless you want it to."

I thought about it for a moment, then turned off the burner and leaned back into him.  He was so warm, and his breath was sweet from the beer.  "Get the tortillas out, would you?  We're having fajitas...maybe the protein will settle everybody's blood alcohol level - and libidos."

"So I guess that's a no on the foursome then?"

My elbow in his ribs was all it took to answer his question.

 

Two days later I was back in the Valentino fitting room being remeasured for another debut gown.  Tom was a presenter for an awards ceremony coming up and was nominated in two categories himself, so I was - in the words of the seamstress matron - "required to shine like Procyon".  I looked over at Tom and shrugged, but he grinned and lifted an eyebrow.  "Why not Achernar?" he asked.  "Isn't she the brightest?" The matron shook a finger at him and tsk'ed condescendingly.

"You know you're Achernar.  She has to settle for being a close second to you."  She looked up at me on my fitting step and rolled her eyes. "The curse of being the plus-one.  No matter what, you can't commit the cardinal sin of outshining the man whose arm you're decorating.  So we make you Procyon, so that when all eyes fall on you, they're dazzled and moved to tears before they stray quickly back to him."

 

When she left the room to get supplies, I raised my eyebrows at Tom, who was sitting spread out on the guest settee against the mirrored wall, playing with his phone.

"You're an astronomy nerd?"

"No, no," he said, grinning.  "I've just had that conversation with her before.  She's fitted me a few times in the past."

"And whose arm were you decorating?"

He laughed, shooting me a sideways look.  "I was presenting.  Presenters can't outshine the nominees, it wouldn't be polite."

"What are you supposed to do this time, you're presenting _and_ nominated.  Do you have to take a change of clothes to wear at the podium?"

Just then someone shouted in a foreign language from the back room and we both turned to look, expecting to see the dramatic matron beating someone with a bolt of fabric.

"Is she French?"

"I believe so.  We had a conversation in French the last time I was fitted here, she's very fluent so I think she must be a native."

"You speak French to the staff?" 

He leaned in and gave me a wicked eyebrow wiggle.  "I'll speak French to your vagina if you're not careful."

I leaned back, away from him, shocked a bit - I hadn't been expecting him to say something like that.  "What?  Wha- what does that even mean?"

"It's...oh, never mind."  He shook his head, giving me a dismissive wave with his hand.  "Sorry, it just slipped out."

I stared at him and he started to laugh.  The matron came out of the back room as I was giving Tom my best befuddled look and stopped to look from me to him and back again.

"So tell her what it means already!" she scolded, throwing her arms up in exasperation.  "If you don't I will."

Tom was sitting with his hand over his mouth, but I could see the barely contained amusement in his eyes.  Fortunately for him, his phone chose that moment to ring and he was rescued by his PA, Luke.  He stood up immediately and headed for the door as he greeted him.

"Luke!  God, sorry I couldn't get hold of you the other day, you must have already been on the plane.  Listen, I've got a bit of news..."

That was all I heard before he disappeared out the door with a wink back at me as he exited.

"You haven't told anyone you're married yet," the matron said in a bored tone, eyeing me and shaking her head.  "Trust me, it won't remain a secret for long.  It's best you be the ones to break the news, rather than people figuring it out on their own."

"And how did you figure it out?"

"Pish.  It was easy.  There's a certain way newlyweds look at each other, a certain sound in their voices when they speak to one another."  She grabbed my left hand and held it up in front of my face.  "That plus you're now wearing a diamond and he's got the matching band.  A parakeet could figure that one out."  She dropped my hand and walked away shaking her head, muttering to herself in what I assumed was French.

 

When Tom came back, he was smiling, but it was an odd smile - almost like he was about to say he had good news and bad news and ask me which I wanted first.  I was standing on the second step of a fitting ladder waiting for someone to come take the pinned-on gown off me again, frozen in an arms-out stiff backed position that was beginning to make my legs shake.

"So how's it going in here?" he asked cheerfully, his eyes darting around looking for the vanished staff.  "This looks like it's going to be stunning."  He touched the chiffon skirt overlay with his fingertips and avoided letting his eyes come to mine.

"What did Luke say?" I asked, bumping his hand away with my knee;  the appliqued detail work was held on very temporarily with a pin stuck straight into each bit, and when he touched it they poked me.  "Did he freak out on you?"

"Freak out?  Umm...no, not quite.  I'd call it more of a moment of shocked disbelief."

"Did he threaten to speak French to your vagina?"

"What?"

I shrugged, immediately regretting it when a half dozen pins nicked me.  "You won't tell me what it means so I'm going to assume it means anything I want it to.  And I'll use it at every inappropriate moment I can find.  We have an event coming up that should give me plenty of opportunities to try it out."

He stared at me with his mouth open.  "I can't decide if you're innocent and naive or just evil."  I didn't say anything and he continued to stare, then shook his head and laughed a little.  "Darling I don't even _have_ a vagina."

I shrugged, wincing when a needle poked me solidly in the ribs.  "Please get Madame Valentino back in here, I'm starting to feel like a pincushion."

"Her name's Marceline."

"If you know who she is then go get her, I'm getting tired of being up here."

He raised an eyebrow and gave me a look.  "Darling, are you by any chance experiencing a little bit of premenstrual tension today?"

I glared at him.  "I'm standing on a ladder with fourteen needles sticking straight into my left boob and you're making weird references to body parts - which you won't explain - and just because I'm getting a little bit cranky you assume I'm about to get my period?"

"But sweetie, you _are_ about to get your period."

"That's not the point!"

Madame Marceline appeared beside me suddenly, startling me;  I jumped and Tom grabbed me to keep me from tumbling off the step, causing another bunch of pins to stab me.  I slapped his hands off my ribcage and told him to go sit down as the matron began disassembling the unsewn parts of the dress from me.

"When is it due?" she mumbled, her mouth full of pins that she plucked from the fabric.

"When is what due?" I asked.

"The 23rd or thereabouts," Tom answered.  Madame Marceline nodded, talking around the pins again.  

"Good, she'll be done before your event.  The light color of this dress is a bit risky, if it was a few days later we might want to consider switching to something darker."

Tom stood with his arms crossed, one hand rubbing his chin in contemplation, nodding.  I suddenly realized what was going on.

"Wait, are you two discussing my period?"

Tom was saved by his phone once again, chuckling quietly as he rushed out of the room to take an incoming call.  Madame Marceline had started humming loudly, so I just stood with my arms out, flinching every now and then when a pin nicked me, waiting for the fitting to be over.

"He better win the damn trophy after all this," I grumbled, turning when she stopped humming to give me instructions.

"Mon petit chou, you _are_ his trophy."

 

 

_To be continued..._

 


	33. Chapter 33

 

 

 

"You look absolutely ravishing...and that's what I plan to do to you later tonight - _ravish you."_

"You'll wait until I'm out of this monstrosity of a dress or there'll be no ravishing this night."

"Why are you talking like Thorin Oakenshield?"

"Why are you talking like a porn star?"

Flashes were going off from all sides, blinding us completely as we stood at the start of the red carpet, arm in arm, smiling and posing like the publicity-friendly superstar couple that the fans wanted us to be.  It was second nature to Tom to feed their fantasy, but I still felt uncomfortable with it to the point where he'd devised this way of keeping me relaxed - by talking dirty to me in front of the entire world.  

"Do they bring lip readers to these things?"

"Why on earth would they do that, darling?"

"To give a running commentary on what the actors are saying.  I mean obviously no one can hear us - "  I gestured toward the crowd, knowing my waving motion would be taken as a greeting and laughed a little when the volume of the cheering crowd intensified for just a moment in response - "and you'd think someone somewhere would pay good money to know what we're actually talking about out here."

I glanced at him and saw that he was staring at me, his mouth on the cusp of a grin.

"What?"

"I do believe you're getting more comfortable with this."

"Not particularly," I said through my smile, taking Tom's arm again as the carpet coordinator motioned for us to move to the next station for the official photographers.  "I'm only doing this so you'll owe me.  And need I remind you that you already owe me for the last one."

"Oh no reminding necessary, I plan to include that in tonight's ravishing."  He flashed his most devastating smile as we entered the photographers area, pulling me to a stop beside him as he slipped an arm around my middle.  "I'm going to get you so bloody drunk at the final afterparty tonight, you'll be begging me to fuck you sideways in the car on the way back to the hotel."

"Oh my goodness.  Not against the wall in an alley somewhere along the way?"

"Darling, we've partaken of our share of dark alleys, don't you think?"

"Got it all out of your system then, have you?"

"Not even remotely.  But Madame Marceline would murder us both if we damaged that dress.  And might I say, you look like a goddamn princess in it."

"And you look like a prince, royal scepter and all."

He tugged me closer and we turned to grace the east row with our smiles and fashion week poses.  It all felt so fake, but tucked up under Tom's arm like this, I could feel his heartbeat.  It was _racing,_ revealing the true depth of his excitement with all the attention.

"Scepter?" he asked through yet another glorious smile.

"Scepter.  Big and imposing and an indisputable symbol of your unchallenged right to rule.  But still conveniently compact enough to be carried in your pants."

He laughed wickedly and shifted his legs, moving them even further apart than his usual power stance required.  He often did this for the sake of the cameras;  his incredible height almost always meant photographers had to readjust their camera mounts quickly to have him in frame, and it was doubly difficult when the person he was standing next to was much shorter than him - as was the case tonight.  He kept trying to make himself shorter so pictures of us wouldn't end up being lopsided, but this time I knew he was shifting for a different reason.  My mention of the contents of his pants had drawn his own attention to it, and now it was responding to that attention.

"Fuck darling, you've given me a boner."

I glanced down.  "Yes, it seems I have," I agreed with a giggle...the front of his carefully tailored slacks was bulging, precariously kept under cover by his tuxedo jacket.  "New pics for the flappyhappyhiddles tumblr page to analyze."

"Behave, princess."  His fingers dug into my side, making me squirm.  "You know we don't talk about tumblr.  Plausible deniability, just in case there actually are lip readers here."  My dress was so tight and formfitting that I was uncomfortable already, but his hand pushing into my ribs made it that much worse and I reached under my arm to grab one of his fingers, pulling it backwards.  

"One false move and I snap it off."

"But darling, that's your favorite finger, the one I shove into your ass while I'm eating your pussy."

I didn't even try to hide the loud giggle that burst out of my mouth at his coarse language.  I knew he was doing it to keep me concentrating on him instead of on the hundreds of voices yelling at us, the hundreds of flashes going off in our faces, the video cameras and the live feeds and the reporters who were all watching our every move right along with the thousands more tuned in at home.  If my resolve wavered even one second I would look at all of it and panic;  Tom kept me grounded and distracted and hopelessly amused, so that my laughter and smiles at his raunchy commentary were mistaken by everyone around us for an adeptness at the whole celebrity facade.  If they only knew my happy expression was a direct response to his running narrative concerning his second finger and my backside.

 

We mingled in the lobby after running the gauntlet of red carpet reporters, celebrity news interviews, photographers and fans - though the lobby wasn't really any quieter or less hectic.  Tom was taken aside for a few minutes to discuss the particulars for his job as presenter, then he returned to me with that brilliant sunshiny smile of his firmly in place as he led me masterfully around the crowded room, giving me a running commentary of names and kinks for everyone that he recognized.

"That's Edwin Dockerty," he said, smiling broadly at an elderly gentleman holding the elbow of a very genteel looking older woman.  "He's the CEO of the company that provides catering to movie sets.  He likes to have a pair of llamas in the room while he cavorts with hookers."

"Oh my god Tom how do you know that?"

"I have an open invitation to join in any time I'm in San Diego."

I accidentally snorted and he laughed, leading me toward a group of people standing near the wall.  "And these are the Clifton brothers, they're triplets - the Flying Wallendas of the lighting and rigging world. They're notoriously frugal and it's said the shorter one there will snag a woman at events like this and by the end of the evening all three will have had her without her even knowing it."

"Well there's a story for Playgirl forum."

"No shit.  See why I like you to stay close to me at these things?  The people I work with are deviants of the worst order."

"And what's the story on you?"

He looked confused, cocking an eyebrow at me as he took a sip of his champagne.  "What do you mean?"

"I mean - you know their kinks, do they know yours?"

He shook his head enthusiastically, waving hello to a woman that was strolling past in a dress that looked like it was made of diamonds.  "No, absolutely not.  You see, the difference between me and these folks is that I keep my business to myself.  They know what I choose to let them know.  And I'm _very_ particular about what I reveal."

As if to prove his point, Luke - or as I liked to call him, The Hiddleston Muzzle - came up behind him and tapped his shoulder.  "Getting into any trouble tonight, superstar?"

"Not a bit of it," Tom grinned, handing his empty glass to a passing waiter.  "Is it time?"

Luke nodded and tipped his head politely to me as Tom leaned in to plant a kiss on my cheek, avoiding my lips so he wouldn't wreck my lipstick.  "Duty calls, my darling.  Will you be alright on your own till the show starts?"

"I'm good," I assured him, looking around for an usher.  "If I get lost I find one of the guys in the red jackets and he'll take me wherever I'm supposed to be."  I felt like a five year old on the first day of kindergarten, but I knew it was necessary.  The place was huge and if I wandered far I'd be lost in no time.

"Good girl."  Luke was trying to urge him along, but he leaned his head down again to press his lips to my ear and whisper, "I love you, darling," before allowing himself to be escorted from the lobby.

 

As soon as he was gone, a woman approached me and pushed a microphone into my face, barking orders to the cameraman behind her as I tried to move past them.  "Amanda Hayes, independent celebrity news. Can I have a few minutes with you Miss Black?"

I shook my head, still trying to get away, but the cameraman had put his equipment bags down to block my retreat and the woman was standing close, too close, blocking the other way out.  My preference for hiding in corners had gotten me into trouble, and I was stuck...there was nothing to do but grant an interview, hope for the best, and then get the hell out of this crowded lobby.

"I really need to get to my seat."

"The show doesn't start for another twenty minutes, we have plenty of time."  She pushed the microphone closer to my face and the light came on on the video camera behind her, blinding me.  "Rumor has it that you and Tom Hiddleston had a very private, very _sudden_ wedding a few weeks ago.  Tell us, does that mean we'll be hearing an announcement soon?"

I wasn't sure what she was asking - I assumed she was referring to an announcement concerning the wedding, and nodded, stammering a little as I tried to put my words together very carefully.  "I'm not sure what he has in mind, but yes, I suppose so - "

"Well let me be the first to congratulate you and Tom on the upcoming blessed event.  When's the date?  Wait let me do the math real quick - sometime in September?  Do you have any names picked out?"

I realized immediately what she was doing;  September was just five months away, she was insinuating that Tom and I had gotten married quickly due to an unexpected pregnancy.  I tried to correct her, suddenly feeling a cold grip of panic at having possibly messed up.  "No no, that's not what I said - "

"Thank you for the exclusive, Anna," she said with a smirk, motioning to her cameraman to stop filming.  "You've been _so helpful."_

And then she walked off, leaving me standing there wondering how on earth this had just happened.

 

My stomach started to feel sick and I looked over at the exits, my feverishly anxious head thinking nothing beyond _how likely is it that I can sneak out of here unnoticed?_ The cars were right there, it shouldn't be too difficult to locate ours and have the driver quietly take me back to the hotel.  I could call Tom from there, tell him I wasn't feeling well, for him to go ahead with his night and I would catch a nap and watch it on the television live feeds. There wasn't much he could do except leave me to it - once the show started, he would be locked into his presenting duties, fulfilling everyone's expectations of him.  And I would be away from that seething nest of vicious strangers intent on finding something horrible to report about Hiddleston's princess.

The only problem was, I couldn't bring myself to go through those doors and leave him.  He was counting on me to keep it together, trusting me to be okay, and I had promised him I would.

 

I was in the bathroom trying to calm down, mad at myself for letting that woman twist my words and discouraged because my hard-won confidence was rapidly draining right out of me.  I didn't want anyone to see me, speak to me, get near me.  I just wanted to be alone, preferably in a dark place far away from this glittery, sparkling, brightly lit nightmare palace.  It all wasn't quite so fairytale beautiful anymore.

An announcer's voice came over the restroom's speaker system, alerting any foot dragging celebrities that they needed to find their places, as the show was beginning in ten minutes.  I knew Tom would be backstage by now, going over the last minute details of his presenter duties.  Good.  He would never find out that I was hiding in the ladies room, pouting and trembling in a confusing mix of anger and panic. I would pull myself together and join him at our seats, hopefully getting there long before he returned from stage duty.  

"Darling, is everything alright?"

The voice was so gentle and quiet from behind me that I might not even have heard it if it weren't for the seemingly perfect acoustics of the washroom.  I wasn't the least bit surprised to look up and see Tom reflected in the mirror, standing behind me with a look of gentle concern on his handsome face.  I nodded, trying to smile at his reflection.

"Yeah.  I got cornered."

"I heard."  He scowled, his eyebrows tipping down in an expression of irritated disapproval.  "And I know who it was.  She'll be getting a call from my people in a day or two, somehow it seems the exclusive interview she worked so hard to schedule with me won't be happening after all...I've had something more _important_ come up."

He placed his hands on my shoulders, very lightly, and gave me a tender squeeze.  "I know you're upset, sweetheart.  I came back to tell you I won't be at our seats until after I've presented - the lobby usher told me you'd been badgered by a reporter and that you came in here looking very unhappy."  He looked around, as if realizing for the first time that he was in the ladies room.  "I understand if you want to stay in here for a while.  It's okay, you do what you need to do.  I'll have someone waiting outside the door to take you wherever you want to go whenever you feel you can come out."  His fingers lightly stroked over my collarbones as he moved closer, bringing his face down near to my shoulder, letting me feel the warm soothing comfort of his breath on my bare skin.  "I really hope to have you sitting next to me in the auditorium later, if you think you can.  I want to feel you squeeze my hand when they're reading the nominees' names."  He leaned in and kissed me, in that tickly spot where shoulder curves up into neck.  His fingers tightened on my shoulders one more time before he slowly let go and smiled at me in the mirror.

I smiled back, feeling my bravery returning, as if he'd infused it into me with his calming touch and his reassuring words.  "If you'll wait outside for just a minute, I'll put myself back together and walk out with you."

His smile grew wider and I could see relief in his eyes as he nodded his approval.  "Take your time, beautiful.  As long as that's no longer than, ohh, three and a half minutes, because I have to be backstage for a quick last minute rehearsal as of about ten minutes ago."  He kissed my shoulder again and let his hand slip down to pat my bottom.  "If we had more time I'd put you on that sofa over there and pull your skirt up over your head...the urge to have your legs around my neck while this expensive Valentino original soaks up our sweat and come is pretty damn urgent right now."

I laughed and turned around as his arms went around me, tugging me up close.  "Something tells me Madame Marceline would not approve."

"She could join us if she were here."

I slipped my hand down and gave the bulge under the flap of his jacket a quick rub.  "You and your threesomes.  She's got to be eighty, you incorrigible pervert."

"Experience, darling...can you imagine what a woman of eighty must know about pleasing a man?"

"Yeah and it likely involves medieval armor and the back of a horsedrawn carriage."

He laughed, throwing his head back, his big happy laugh that always made me feel better.  "Now get out or I'll make you hold my skirt up while I pee.  I need a roadmap just to figure out how to get out of this thing."

He cocked his eyebrow and I could see he was working out in his head how to parlay holding my skirt up into a quickie against the stall wall.

 _"Go,_ please.  We have three and a half minutes, remember?  Minus the half minute you just wasted doing that eyebrow thing."

 

I was sitting next to him holding his hand as they read the names of the nominees for Best Actor.  He'd told me in the car on the way over that he didn't expect to actually win - the competition was far too stiff this year, but just the fact that his name was in the list with all these distinguished legendary actors was far more than he'd ever dreamed of.  He smiled at me adoringly as I squeezed his fingers, and while the names were being read he leaned over and whispered in my ear, _"I am so gonna get you pregnant tonight."_

"Tom Hiddleston for Crimson Peak!"

His lips were still next to my ear when he exclaimed with surprise, "Holy shit really?!"

I covered my mouth with my hands and looked at him...the usher was standing next to the row where we were sitting, his hand out, indicating that Tom needed to go to the stage.  Tom put his hands on both sides of my face and pulled me to him, kissing me excitedly on the mouth before he finally got up and made his way down the long aisle to the steps that led onstage, turning briefly to wink at me as he started up them.

He took the podium with a wide grin of pure unadulterated joy - there was no way he could ever convince me he didn't truly love this.  All of it, the love and adoration of his fans, the recognition of the work he enjoyed so much, the golden statuette in his hand proving that he was everyone's favorite.  He shone like the sun, and not one beam of his sparkling light was wasted.

He set the award down on the podium and looked out over the audience, letting the applause die down as his smile widened even more to the rowdy hoots coming from the balcony.  He looked up and waved to whoever was making the noise and the microphone picked up his little laugh, that sweetly gleeful giggle that the world knew was his and his alone.

"Wow," he began, talking over the residual applause and cheering.  "Thank you, this is...this is an honor, indeed."  He looked at the statuette, touched it, picked it up and stared at it as if looking for the right words to say.  "When I first signed on to work with Benicio, I thought we were making a dark little movie about forbidden love and spooky old houses - and we did.  But we apparently ended up also making something reminiscent of a gothic work of art, judging by the amount of goldplate going home with the production team tonight."  He gestured toward Benicio and the editing, sound, and visual arts teams, letting the audience clap for them for a moment before continuing.  "And in addition to that, other things were made on that rainy, cold, dark set in Spain.  There were friendships forged and memories made, and I met my precious wife Anna, whom you've all seen on the screen with me, although you didn't likely know that it was her."

There was a collective outburst from the crowd, something that sounded like surprise right before another eruption of applause as Tom held his arm out toward where I was seated.  I knew cameras were zooming in on me and I tried not to slouch down into my seat;  my ears were hot and burning and I felt an embarrassed flush creeping across my chest.  He hadn't told me he was going to do this.   _He'd just told the world we were married._

I smiled and did my best to look pleased that hundreds of people were staring at me.  I ignored the fact that thousands more were doing the same from their sofas at home.  I kept my eyes locked to him, watching him applaud along with the audience for a few seconds before he spoke again and I could breathe, everyone's attention shifting back to him.   _Achernar and Procyon.  They'll look at you, but he will always shine brighter._

"I want to thank you, my darling Anna, for this.  It was your dedication to the job and your unswerving determination to create the life you wanted with the hand you were dealt that made me work harder, take things more seriously, and do my job better so that you wouldn't steal the show from under me.  And for your devotion and love and neverending patience, I just want to say, thank you, and I love you sweetheart."

I didn't really hear the rest of his speech;  it sounded like a foreign language spoken underwater and I waited for the applause so that I could get up and go the bathroom.  I didn't need to pee, I needed to gather my wits back into my head and catch my breath, as I'd been sitting there holding it in my lungs, afraid that if I let it out my emotions would spill out with it.  I could feel my eyes burning and knew there were tears just waiting to streak their way messily through my carefully applied makeup.   _Don't fall apart.  So he told the world he loves you.  You already knew it, what are you getting so broken up over?_

I waved to the usher, who summoned a seat filler to sit in my spot until I returned.  I felt dizzy and hot as I made my way up the long aisle to the exits, but by the time I reached them I knew this wasn't the first stage of a panic attack I was experiencing.  It was that messily elated feeling you get when you know, without doubt or question, that someone you absolutely and completely adore _absolutely and completely adores you back._

I made it to the restroom and stood in front of the mirrors, not looking at myself but feeling slightly comforted by the dozen or so reflected images likewise not looking at me.  There was no one else in the room and I practiced my breathing - slowly in, slowly out - and realized I was laughing.  Shaking and laughing, and feeling ridiculously, giddily in love.  

_He told the world._

 

The charmed brat won his second nomination as well, and took the stage again, to thunderous applause again, this time with the musical production team from the film he'd done right before I met him.  I knew this one meant far more to him than the Best Actor award he'd already claimed - this one was an acknowledgement of his other skills, skills he hadn't felt secure with, that he had worked on and sweated over till he'd honed them into something worthy of recognition.  It was something that hadn't come natural to him like his acting did, and he got teary when it was his turn to hold the statuette as the team passed it around and took turns saying their thanks and dedications.  There was nothing he could say about me this time, as he'd done this work long before we met, but as his eyes flitted over the audience I knew he was looking for me.  I waved and he zeroed in on me, his smile widening to glorious proportions again.

"This is an honor, truly, and I'm proud, so unbelievably proud, that you all find my voice slightly less grating than nails on a blackboard.  It's a skill that didn't come easy, and it's still not perfect, but I hope to polish it enough in time to sing my children to sleep without giving them nightmares."

There was a collective a _wwww_ from the audience and I saw Luke glance over at me from the next row up.  I knew what he was thinking - _did he knock her up already?_ But Tom was charming the world with his flawless portrayal of a man in love, with such heartfluttering sincerity that I dared even the most rabid of fans to begrudge him his happiness with someone other than them.  And the best part of his act was that I knew it wasn't an act.  The award for this performance wouldn't be a gaudy golden trophy on the mantle.  It would be me, and hopefully one day a family.  He'd already won, already taken his prize home.  Luke smiled at me and I knew he would find some way to spin whatever backlash came from this night's revelations, but honestly, he didn't look that concerned.

 

Afterparties, freely flowing champagne, dozens of handshakes and back slaps later and we were finally in the car, moving slowly away from the glitzy glamour of Hollywood with relieved sighs as we collapsed back on the outrageously comfortable seats to the still-flashing cameras pointed at us from everywhere.  They were dim now, coming through the darkly tinted windows of the limousine, and I sank down in my seat trying halfheartedly to escape them.  Enough was enough, I'd been flashed nonstop for the last six hours and I felt like my pupils would never unclench.  Tom laughed at me and tossed his two trophies onto the other seat.

"Oh dear," he said with a sigh, looking over at me with his eyebrow up.

"Oh dear indeed," I said back, reaching over to pat his knee.  He put his hand over mine and squeezed it affectionately.  "It seems Tom Hiddleston has arrived."

He smiled, his eyes sparkling with excitement and copious amounts of champagne.  And love.  There was definitely love there, twinkling behind the Bollinger.  He leaned over to kiss me, whispering against my cheek as the car finally left the parking lot and started down the road to our hotel and the long awaited bliss of a queen sized bed.  "And I'm dragging you along with me.  Enjoy the ride, darling."

 

Once he had me in our room and the door swung shut behind us, he murmured a quick apology to Madame Marceline and started pulling at my dress, anxious to have me out of it so he could get at me.  His hands were rough and impatient and I was barely able to push him away long enough to turn and hold my hair up, waiting for him to unzip me, feeling a shiver run through my whole body when he rested one hand on my hip and slowly edged the zipper down with the other.  He followed it down with his lips, planting hungry, heated kisses along my spine as the dress opened to reveal my naked skin beneath it.

"You were goddamn magnificent tonight, darling," he murmured into the curve at the small of my back, on his knees now behind me as his hands slowly lowered the dress to the floor.  "I can't even count how many people told me I had the most dazzling woman there."  He stood and slipped his arms around me, nuzzling the side of my neck with his mouth.  "You shone brighter than Achernar."

I laughed, turning in his arms to push his tuxedo jacket back off his shoulders before I started removing his bow tie.  "You're Achernar, remember?  I'm Procyon."

He shook his head slowly, holding my eyes with his.  "They're just stars.  You're the sun."  He pushed his fingers into my hair, tipping my head back so he could press his lips to mine, and I melted against him happily.  I didn't want to be the sun...I wanted to be the moon, _his_ moon, just lazily hanging out near him, influencing his tides and seasons but not pulling any attention away from him, the bright and shining center of our little universe.  It sounded like a good job for me.

"You promised to get me pregnant tonight," I whispered against his lips as he drew back briefly to slip out of his shirt, his hands going down to unbutton his pants.  He stepped out of them and abruptly picked me up in his arms, turning to stride purposefully toward the bed with me as I kicked my shoes off, leaving them haphazardly strewn on the floor between us and the door.

"Yes, yes I did," he agreed, his voice taking on a decidedly sexy growl as he laid me down on the bed and slipped his hand between my legs.  Madame Marceline's first rule of fancy dressing - no underwear, no underwear lines.  I giggled and squeezed my knees together as his fingers invaded me.

"God bless Madame Marceline," he murmured against my stomach as he made his way down to where I was waiting for him, wet and warm and aching with need, but most of all _welcoming._

 

By the time he finally withdrew his fingers and sucked them into his mouth as he crept back up to lie face to face with me, my body had given him the pleasure of knowing he had complete control over it by surrendering an orgasm to his excruciating touch and his heatedly whispered urgings.  It was well on its way to a second showing of complete and utter ownership when he kissed my cheek, almost chastely, bringing a smile to my flushed face as I tried to still my labored breathing.

"You're soft and wet and ready for me," he whispered, trailing his lips down my throat to my breast, nipping at my achingly stiff nipple with his teeth.  My groan made him grin and I felt his lips spread with the width of his wicked smile.  "If you'll guide me in, we'll get this DNA party started."

It was all I could do not to laugh and I reached up to tug at his hair first, making him tip his face up to look at me.  His eyes were burning that flame blue that always told me he was at the peak of desire, ready to claim me, dangerously close to the point where he could easily lose control and make me scream.  But his mouth...his mouth was quirked up at the corners, an enigmatic little smile playing teasingly there.  It told me he remembered, regardless of how his eyes were looking at me.  He remembered that we were going to make a baby and that the way we did it mattered.  It mattered to me, and because of that, it mattered to him too.  

"No cursing, no fucking, no obscene kink and no swinging naked from the chandelier in a Bane mask," he recited, as if reading the rules at the public pool.  "We're setting up house, and we make _love,_ not reasons for the neighbors to call the police."

I was laughing before he even finished, my head back on the pillows with my eyes closed, wondering how I ever managed to get so lucky.  This man - he understood, he _got it,_ he took me seriously and he took _us_ seriously.  And he made me laugh while he was doing it.

"I'd be okay with the Bane mask," I said teasingly as he moved over me, positioning himself between my legs, nudging them apart gently with his thigh so he could settle comfortably against me.  I reached down between us and slipped my fingers around his cock, my breath catching like it always did when I felt how thick and solid he was.  "Mmmmm...this is the best part."

"I couldn't suck your nipples through the mouth cage," he argued, dipping his head down to tug at one, making me purr as he licked at it.  "No, actually I probably could.  And yes...this part is good.   _So so good..."_

We both groaned as I edged just the tip of his cock into my wetness, feeling it enlarge in my hand, struggling to get into the warmth it was craving.   _"Push me in, baby,"_   Tom whispered.   _"Take me home."_

With a deep sigh, I wriggled the swollen head into my opening and moved my hand away, turning control over to him, bringing my knees up to give him room to move as he thrust his hips against me, driving himself deep.  The sensation of my sensitive inner passage stretching wide to take him in was both intoxicatingly painful and mind numbingly pleasureful, and I cried out a little as he sank in.  Even with me fully aroused and relaxed, his incredible size was difficult for my body to accept.  He kissed my eyelids tenderly to soothe me...he knew, and since there was little he could do about it, he always took a moment to comfort me.

 _"Ohhh darling_...you feel _so_ incredible... _so_ so soft...so warm...so good. _I love you so so much..."_  

He shifted his weight, letting his upper body rest on mine for just a moment as he moved up a bit, shortening his thrust so he wouldn't hurt me.  I slipped my hands up his back to hold onto him as he set our pace at a slow, languorous rocking, our bodies perfectly joined, rubbing and tensing and moving slickly against each other, giving and taking so much exquisite pleasure that it seemed like only moments before I was bucking up against him, a climax shimmering up my spine to my brain where it exploded into a million brilliant stars behind my eyes.  And when I could open them and focus around the diamond shards that were still falling as my body spasmed and clutched at Tom's cock, I saw him above me, his own eyes closed tight, and I knew he was seeing those very same stars.

 

 

_To be continued..._

 


	34. Chapter 34

 

 

I sighed, wincing a little bit because I knew he was going to be so disappointed.  He wouldn't be able to hide it and I would be sad, more for him than for me.

"It's negative."

I saw the shadow fall across his face and he looked down at the floor for a moment, his fingers fiddling nervously with each other.

"I'm sorry sweetheart...don't be sad, we have two weeks left to get in as many tries as we can..."  He reached out to me and wiggled his fingers, waiting for me to come take his hand.  "And I intend to utilize every available moment doing just that."

 _Two weeks._  He was leaving for a job, and I couldn't go with him.  Just two weeks left and I'd be on my own without him, in this big house, in this big city, in this strange country.  I looked up at him and saw him smiling at me, trying to reassure me with that silly cocked eyebrow that I loved so much.

I dropped the test stick in the garbage, but Tom leaned over and fished it out, laying it on the bedside table as he sat down on the edge of the bed to kick off his shoes.  I gave him a questioning look and he winked at me as he pulled his shirt off over his head.

"To remind us to do our best," he said, dropping the shirt and patting the bed next to him.  I sat down beside him and leaned against him.  He was sweaty from his run but I loved it, the feel of his damp skin, the smell of his sweat.  "Do you want me to shower first?"

"No.  You're just going to get sweatier and need another one."

"True."

He slipped out of his sweatpants and I watched him till he noticed I was making no move to undress myself.  "If this is going to be an equal opportunity fuckfest, I'm afraid you're going to have to lose some clothes darling."

I laughed a little at his wording and felt my eyes tear up when he ran his hand through my hair.  He always knew just how to touch me when I needed comforting.  Sometimes there were no words, just a touch, and it was always just right.  He slipped his arms around me and pulled me tight against him.  "Oh sweetie, we knew it might take some time...we were ready for that, remember?"

I shrugged in his embrace.  "I know.  I know...I just...I thought maybe we would get lucky."

He sighed deeply, pressing his face into my hair.  "We will.  However long it takes, we'll get lucky."

 

He made love to me with such sweetness and gentleness, kissing me tenderly and touching me soothingly, waiting until I'd taken my release before he let himself finish.  When it was time, he pulled out of me for a moment, just long enough to bring my legs up and rest them against his upper arms, shifting down on me so that he could thrust deeper.  He kissed me with a moan and asked if I was ready.  I sucked his tongue as it played gently against mine and nodded as his hands went under my bottom to tip my hips up, creating a perfectly straight and shallow passage for his seed to hopefully find their way more easily to their destination.

 _"Hold onto me,"_   he whispered as he pushed in.

 

Afterward I lay on the bed on my back while Tom took his shower, laughing a little as he shouted at me from the bathroom to keep my legs up.  "Give my boys an easy swim, if they're anything like me they get distracted easily.  They've got one job, maybe they'll manage it with a little help from gravity."

I giggled and put my legs up in the air, squeezing my knees together - it certainly couldn't hurt to keep as much of it in as possible.  He was so sweet, the way he jokingly tried to take the blame for our lack of success so far.  But I knew it wasn't him.  It was me.  My past was making our future uncertain.  And no amount of teasingly blaming his own sperm was going to take away that guilt.

It had been three months since we'd actively begun trying.  Three months of hoping and three months of negative results.  I didn't let him see, but I cried in the bathroom every time the plus sign failed to materialize.  He was trying so hard, checking the calendar every morning to see how close we were to my most fertile days, doing the math and the confusing calculations that told us when our chances were most likely.  And every time I tested and came out of the bathroom without good news, he held me and kissed me and told me it was okay...it just wasn't time yet.

 

Three days before Tom left for his shoot in Morocco, my botched encounter with Amanda Hayes at the Oscars finally came back to bite us in the ass.  Her big reveal of our marriage had been blown out of the water by Tom beating her to it in his acceptance speech, so all that was left for her to work with was the rumor that we'd married in haste to cover up an unexpected pregnancy - but my stomach's stubborn refusal to enlarge was proving her wrong on that front, and she wasn't happy about it.  She was out to make a name for herself at our expense but was failing miserably. That coupled with the fact that Tom had canceled her exclusive interview with him as a symbolic way of smacking her on the nose with a newspaper for being mean to his wife...well, it was a recipe for disaster.  Salty as hell about the entire situation and seething for revenge on us both, she took the lowest road possible and paid an intern from the studio under the table to steal cut footage from our movie - footage of Tom and I, naked, involved in steamy sex.  It was all aboveboard, the footage was shot on set and was fully scripted, fully official, and fully in exclusive possession of Legendary Pictures.  But she'd found out I was the body double for those scenes and my face was very visible in the stills, where it was CGI'd out in the final cut of the film and replaced with the female lead's face.

She edited Tom's face out, leaving only me and an unidentifiable male, naked and engaged in very graphic sexual activity.  And then she sold them to the biggest, most widely read, most unscrupulous gossip magazine on the planet.

They were printed with the headline _SEX TAPE SCANDAL FOR HIDDLESTON'S PRINCESS:  Hot Oscar-Winning Actor's New Bride Caught in Naked Photos, Warning!  Graphic Content!_

And all hell promptly broke loose.

 

Chris was the first to call, having seen the story in the grocery store checkout lane.  I knew by Tom's face as he listened that something horrible was happening.  Luke was next to call, on Tom's second line, before he was even off the phone with Chris.  He went into the library and shut the door behind him, not even looking at me as he went.  But I could hear him, and for the first time since I'd met him, I knew he was furious.

Not long later, a delivery boy rang the front doorbell and Tom rushed past me, telling me to please go into the bedroom and stay there, he had a problem to deal with.  I did as I was told but I left the door open so I could hear what was going on, and when Tom walked past the bedroom to go back into the library, I saw in his hands what the delivery boy had brought.  A magazine, with his name in bold print on the front, although the picture below it was just a blur as he rushed past, closing the door behind him.

A minute later I heard him yelling and figured out that he was talking to Luke again.

"I want an official statement issued that those photos are actually cut footage from the film, illegally obtained from the editing department at Legendary Pictures.  They're not from a fucking sex tape!"  I heard him pacing around angrily as he spoke.  "Release the originals if you have to, uncut to show that the man in the photos is me.  Yes, I know - _I don't care!_  It's the only way to prove there's no scandal, that this is all just a malicious revenge perpetrated by an angry reporter who didn't get her story."  I heard the desk drawer slamming, and more angry pacing.  "Yes I do know it was her, she cornered Anna at the Oscars and I canceled her exclusive because of it.   _Do it Luke._   _Now."_

I sat on the edge of the bed, shaking, almost afraid to see him.  I'd never heard him yell like that, or slam a door, or tell me to get into a room and stay there.  But I'd heard what he was talking to Luke about, and my hands were trembling with both rage and panic.  That woman in the lobby, shoving her microphone in my face and asking me a leading question, one that I could only guess the correct answer to - it had to have been her.   _What had she done...?_

Tom finally came into the bedroom a long time later and sat down next to me, the rolled up magazine in his hand.

"I'm sure you heard."

I nodded.

"Do you want to see?"

I didn't respond.  I had no idea what pictures he could have been talking about, but if they were cut footage involving me, they had to be nudes and compromising positions.

"It's nothing new, to be honest," he said quietly, sliding his arm around my shoulders to pull me gently against him.  "They're stills from the cutting room floor of our scenes together.  But carefully chosen ones - either from behind me so my face isn't showing, or with my face blurred out.  And of course your face is there, since it wasn't CGI'd out until post production.  Out of context, they look...well, they look like you've been a very naughty girl."

"Why would she do that?"

"I'm so sorry darling...it's my fault, I canceled an interview she'd lobbied for nearly a year to get.  It would have likely made her career...I didn't think she would stoop so low as to go after you for it."  He kissed my cheek, nuzzling his nose into the side of my neck.  "I'm really really sorry babe.  I'll fix it, I promise.  Luke is on it already."

"What do we do until then?"

"We...I dunno, I suppose we could either lay low and wait for it to disappear, or we just continue on like nothing has happened and rise above it till it's remedied."  He stared at me for a moment, like he was trying to figure out what I was thinking.  He finally gave it up and just asked.  "What do you think we should do?"

I tried to think clearly, reasonably, but my head didn't want to cooperate.  Everything in me was screaming to just hide and never let anyone look at me again.  It was tempting...but I sighed and straightened my back, suddenly determined not to let this hurt us.  I'd let people chase me into corners for almost all my adult life, culminating in my willingness to let Eric take complete control over me.  I couldn't let his influence color my future with Tom.  I just couldn't.

"I want to rise above it."

Tom breathed an audible sigh of relief and hugged me so tight it pushed the breath from my lungs.

"Then that's what we'll do," he said through a tired smile.  "This is you and me, rising above it together."

 

The day before he was to leave, we had an event to appear at.  "I understand if you want to skip this one, darling," he said, rubbing my shoulders as he sat behind me on the sofa.  "Nobody could blame you."

"When will Luke's statement hit the presses?"

"Soon...I'm thinking maybe the weekend.  We're still waiting on the legal paperwork for getting possession of the footage from the studio.  But I know that doesn't help you much tonight."

I thought about it, sitting back against him, snuggling into his arms.  If I went into hiding or even skipped a single event that we were expected to be at, she would win.  I would look guilty for however long it took for the statement to go public.  Tom would look bad.  It would be the equivalent of an admission of guilt in the eyes of the public. _His_ public.  I couldn't do that to him.

"I want to go."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"It's possible nothing will have changed...it may not have broken wide yet, or people might not even really care."

"They care, Tom.  I look like a villain...I read the article, I know you said not to but I did.  It said I cheated on you and that this so called  _sex tape_ was made while we were together.  Showing up with me in public now will either make you look like a fool or...or...pussywhipped!"

He fought back a grin.  "Darling, as soon as the unedited photos are released everyone will know none of it is true.  It'll be obvious they're scenes from the movie and the man in the pictures is me.  There will be a retraction by the magazine and a public apology and I imagine Amanda will be looking for work in the fast food industry very soon afterwards."

"But won't that have repercussions too?  Releasing naked photos of yourself?"

"Anna, have you forgotten the movie has already been released worldwide?   _Millions_ of people have seen me naked by now.  It's not a big deal."

"But those are the most graphic scenes, the ones that didn't make the final cut because they were - you know."  I felt my face going hot.   _"Too dirty."_

"It will be obvious they're from the movie, Anna.  Luke is making certain of it.  Nothing's been left to chance..."  He kissed my temple, breathing against my skin for a moment.  "It'll be okay, I promise you."

He pulled me over across his lap and held me close, rocking me as he kissed my nose and eyelids gently.  "When I get back from Morocco, I'm going to take you on a honeymoon.  Anywhere you want to go - you think about it while I'm away, and let me know when you've decided so I can make the arrangements."

"Why don't I just join you in Morocco when you're finished?  I'd love to go there."

"Yeah?"

I nodded, smiling, feeling the stress starting to melt away slowly with his soft kisses on my face.  "Yeah.  I want to go to Morocco.  Please?"

"Morocco it is."

 

"Are you ready to run the gauntlet?"

It was what he always asked me when we were about to step onto a red carpet.  But this time it was different.  This time the fans, the photographers, the interviewers, the reporters, would all be looking at us in a different way than we were used to. We'd been prepped for this, the inevitable backlash, the potential misguided anger and unforgiving nature of the general public.  The unfair judgement.  It was frustrating but we knew it was coming, and we had accepted it.  We were just going to face it head on, refusing to hide from it.

"I'm ready."

He leaned over and kissed me, giving me that famously reassuring smile as he opened his door and climbed out of the car.  I could hear the noise of the crowd, brought into loud focus as the door opened.  I took a deep breath. _You can do this._

As he came around the car to open my door, I heard a loud blast of music begin playing, broadcast over speakers so that it could be plainly heard above the noise of the crowd.  I heard Tom exclaim in exasperation, "Oh come on, _really??_  What asshole did that?"  And then I recognized the song and understood why he said it.

_Angel is a centerfold..._

My face went hot and Tom pulled my door open, sticking his head in to look at me before letting me get out.  "Can you run in those shoes?" he asked, looking down at my high heeled pumps.  I nodded, keeping my eyes locked to his like he'd taught me to do when I was nervous.

"Yes."

He shook his head.  "Good, because I think we're going to have to."

He took my hand and helped me out of the car.  The noise was deafening, and over it all was that damn song, mocking us.  I wanted to cry, but to break down in front of everyone like this would be catastrophic. Tom's arm came around me protectively and he bowed his back, leaning over me, shielding my face from the thousands of bright flashes popping off all around us as we ran together past the photographers, past the screaming fans, and past the shouting interviewers.  Tonight there would be no autographs, no pictures, no soundbytes.  Just us, getting through it as quickly as possible and disappearing into the building without a single smile or wave.

 

I stood at the door with tears dripping off my chin, not even trying to hide the fact that I was crying miserably.  Tom's suitcase and carry on bag were in the corner of the foyer, waiting for his cab to arrive.  His second cellphone, the one he carried for personal calls, was laying on top of the suitcase along with his iPod, a dogeared script, and a paperback of William Shakespeare's Star Wars that I'd bought for him with the book money that he always made sure I had.  It was meant to be a joke in reference to his undying devotion to Shakespeare, but he loved it.

He was behind me, pacing around the livingroom, talking on his business phone.

"Put a rush on it, please.  What is the holdup??"

I listened, trying _not_ to listen, knowing it was private but it wasn't like he was keeping his voice down.  The event the previous night had gone well, as well as it could, with the exception of the cruel stunt of the music outside the venue - but there had been a distinct chill over everything all night, a particular stiffness in the way people shook Tom's hand, the way their eyes flitted over me before settling on my face with a polite smile. No mention was made of the scandal and Tom was handed two scripts to look over, which gave me an incredible sense of relief.  I didn't want this affecting his career.  It wasn't my fault, but I was at the heart of it, and I felt so guilty.

Tom suddenly moved the phone away from his face and held it in front of his mouth to yell into it. _"What the fuck do I pay you for?!"_

I cringed.  I'd never heard him yell like that.  He wasn't an angry person, and he never insulted anyone, ever.  But what happened was eating at him, even more so since he was leaving the country without me, while the storm was just gathering steam.

"I want those pictures obtained and released _immediately._  Unedited, completely intact, the most clear shots you can get of _both_ our faces and the background behind us.  I want set props in those photos, anything to identify them as being cut footage from the movie.  And you _make sure my face is showing._  And the bed - that bed is as recognizable a part of the movie as any of the actors, you make sure the bed is shown in its entirety. Get those and get the same pictures Amanda got so we can release them uncut and show what she edited out.  I want there to be no doubt what those images actually are.  Have you gotten the statement yet from Legendary?  The one proving Anna was the body double?"  He paused for a moment, staring past me at his suitcase.  "Good.  Now get the rest done.   _Please."_

He hung up, shoving the phone into the pocket of his jeans.

"I wish you wouldn't carry that so close to your cock.  They emit radiation from the wifi."

"What?"

I stared out the door, watching the leaves fall slowly from the trees.  "Your phone.  You carry it so close to your gear."

His arms came around me from behind and hugged me, and I heard him laugh quietly against the back of my neck.  "If it worries you, I'll carry it in my back pocket."  He pulled my hair aside and kissed my neck. "Will that make you feel better?"

I nodded.  We were trying to make a baby, I didn't need his sperm production being adversely affected by close proximity to a potentially radioactive device.

"Was that Luke?"

"No, no...it was Luke's assistant, the person that's been entrusted to take care of this mess.  Luke has too much on his own plate, he's had to delegate a few things."  He tugged me tighter against his front, sliding his arms around my stomach.  "It will all work out.  I'm just being impatient because I can see how upset you are."

I leaned back, letting my head rest against his collarbone.  "I do like J. Geils though."

He laughed without hesitation.  "I do too, to be honest.  I actually love that song."  He raised one hand to my chin and wiped my tears away with the back of his fingers.  "You're crying."

"Yeah.  I miss you already."  I turned around in his arms and pushed my face into his chest.  "I don't want you to go."

"I know."  

 

An unsettling sensation of nausea washed over me and I sat up, blinking in the dark for a moment till I realized I was in Tom's bed - no, _our_ bed, I was his wife and this bed was as much mine now as his - but something felt very off and I barely made it to the bathroom before my stomach lurched, leaving me heaving over the sink for several minutes until it calmed.  The sound of my own retching and subsequent sobbing seemed so loud in the silent house.  Tom wasn't there.  Three days alone so far and I was surviving without him, but not happily.  And now this.

It felt like a stomach flu...I knew it was, it wasn't worth peeing on a stick over.  I was sick of testing every time I felt a little bit strange, only to be disappointed even though I knew while I was doing it what the outcome was going to be. _It just isn't time yet,_ Tom kept telling me.   _You've been under a lot of stress, we just got married, you moved so far from your home...your body is still healing and so are your emotions. Don't be hard on yourself._

_Give it time._

I knew he was right, I was just so damn anxious.  Another obstacle had just fallen out of our way - the pictures from my "scandalous sex tape" were now known to be a fraud, as Legendary had released an official statement saying the images were illegally obtained cut footage and that the person responsible for selling them to the reporter had been removed from their employ, possibly facing criminal charges.  In the process they outed me as the body double for the movie's sex scenes and now the world knew the woman Tom had married was the naked body they'd all seen on the screen, but that was a far less ignominious weight to carry than having them think I'd cheated on him at the start of our relationship.  A public retraction and apology was demanded of the magazine that first printed them - it hadn't come yet, but with Legendary's legal team suddenly on it, I knew it wouldn't be long.

Things were looking up.  But I didn't feel much better, because Tom was so far away.  And now I was sick.

Eva was in London that week to visit her mother and came to see me.  It was a lot easier dealing with Tom's absence while she was in the house with me, or dragging me off to go shopping or to the movies.  I'd never really had a close female friend before, not since I was a teenager and my family had moved across country.  I'd had to start over in a new place where I didn't know a single soul.   _Sort of like now._  So it was fun having her around to distract me and keep me busy.

We were eating lunch at the bistro just up the street from the house when she noticed I was breathing erratically, frozen with my cup of coffee halfway between the table and my mouth.

"I'm okay," I assured her as she grabbed my arm and shook me a little.  "I haven't been feeling very good, it'll pass in a minute."

"What is it?"

"My stomach."  I put my cup down, suddenly nauseated at the mere thought of coffee.  "Feels like a bug.  I'm fine.

She gave me a look that told me the same thing I'd been telling myself.  But it really did feel like a bug, so I ignored her.  "I'm fine," I repeated, forcing myself to swallow some coffee, suddenly revolted by the taste.

 

"Just do it, then you'll know and you can go on about your business without all this stress."

"I'm not stressed, I'm nauseated.  There's a difference."

"Not by much."  Eva was in the bathroom that adjoined our bedroom, rummaging around in the pantry.  "Where do you keep them?  Ah, here we go."  She came to the door, waving a ClearBlue stick in front of her face.  "All you gotta do is pee, simple."

"I really don't want to.  It'll be negative and I'll be sad."  I flopped back on the bed and grabbed a pillow, pulling it over my face.  She tossed the stick onto the bed next to me with an annoyed _hmph_ and left the room, chastising my cowardice.

"Just do it, silly.  I'm going to go call my kids."

 

I lay there for a while with the pillow over my face, then finally pushed it aside and turned my head.  The stick was laying there, silently taunting me, and I stared at it for a long time.  What could it hurt...if for no other reason than to verify that I had a stomach bug.   _That's worth knowing._  With a sigh, I sat up and grabbed it with resignation, turning it over and over in my hand before finally trudging off to the bathroom. Maybe I'd call Tom afterward, tell him I was sick and let him sympathize with me.  He was good with sympathy.  I would end up feeling better and he would be happy that I'd called, even if it was just to say I had a queasy tummy and missed him.

 

"Hey Eva," I said, looking around the house, following her voice till I finally found her in the kitchen sitting at the table, talking on the phone with her mom.  She looked up and saw me staring at the stick in my hand and quickly excused herself from her conversation.

"I'll call you back later mum."  She hung up and stared at me.  "What's it say?"

I shook my head, confused.  "I have no idea.  It's, like, halfway.  I think it's malfunctioned."  I looked at her and turned the stick around so she could see the weird little half formed plus sign, so light that I could barely even see it.  "What does that mean?"

Her eyebrows shot up as she took it from me, looking at it closely.  "I don't know, mine were always dark and really clear.  But I think it's worth a trip to your doctor."

I took it back from her and stared at it, not sure what to think.  

 

 

_To be continued..._

 

 


	35. Chapter 35

 

 

 

"Darling, I visited a fertility specialist here and he gave me some pamphlets to read - "

I burst out laughing, that kind of outburst that's half amusement and half crying.  Him and his bloody pamphlets.  He went silent and I instantly felt bad for laughing at him.  Bless his heart, he tried so hard. "Sorry, I just got an image of you leaving a clinic with a stack of those things."

He chuckled a little.  "You know I love them.  But I've been reading these and they all seem to say the same thing - that this happens really often, more often than pregnancies that make it to term.  It doesn't mean anything's wrong, it's just nature's way of doing a little housecleaning."

I flinched a little.  "Well there's a term I wouldn't have put on it, but okay."

He didn't even pause...he was on a roll, with something to tell me and no chill about how.  "No really, listen - it says that often an ovum will be blighted, I guess that's a fancy way of saying something's wrong with it, and so to keep a child from being conceived that would have terrible problems, your body sort of...hold on, let me find it."  I heard him shuffling through pages.  "...your body doesn't accept it and keeps it from fertilizing.  But it's already implanted usually by that time, so your body starts making the hormones that are necessary to support the pregnancy, even though it's not actually going to happen.  So you'll get a positive test, because the test detects those hormones.  If they're present at all, in any amount, it will come up positive."

My doctor had already told me all this, but I kept silent and let him rattle off his information.  I knew it made him feel better, it was his way of being in control of the situation from eighteen hundred miles away. And it made me feel better too, knowing he was on top of it - but mostly that he cared enough to bother.  It was better than listening to him say "I'm sorry sweetheart, we'll try again," from the other end of the phone line.

There was finally a short pause and I actually heard excitement in his voice when he spoke again.

"The end point that all these pamphlets make is that  _this is a good sign._   Baby, your body thought it was pregnant and immediately started doing all the things it was  _supposed_  to do.  Don't you see what that means?"

 _That I can't do anything right?_  "I don't need to see, because you're going to show me," I said half teasingly.  He didn't notice my gentle sarcasm.

"It means we can get pregnant.  Your body knows what to do and it did it."

I covered the bottom of my phone and sighed, ready for this conversation to be over, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings.  He was on a break from the set and he needed to be able to go back and slip into character without anything heavy on his mind.  So I smiled even though I knew he couldn't see it, and just hoped he could hear it in my voice.

"Yeah, that's good news.  Maybe next time it'll be right."

"It will."

There was a moment of quiet between us, then he shifted gears again;  his voice was lower, gentler, and there was a soothing quality to it that I loved.  He often used it on me in bed, usually when he was telling me to relax or lie still.

"Everything will be okay, darling.  Remember to take your vitamins, your prenatals, and the folic acid.  And eat.  No skipping breakfast.  Is Eva still there with you?"

"Yeah.  She comes and goes, but she's here a lot."

"Good.  You two look after each other."  There was a little hesitation before his voice sped up again, rising a bit in pitch.  "Oh, and do you remember those books you have, the ones that came in that last box from your place?"

"Sandman?  Yeah, what about them?"

"Gaiman's people called me.  They officially want me to play Dream."

"You're joking!"  I squealed and slapped my hand over my mouth, almost dropping my phone.  He laughed happily.  "How long have I been telling you you're Morpheus?  I knew they'd see it."

"I thought you might be excited about that."

"I am."  There was a silence where we both waited, just listening to each other's breathing over the line.  I never knew why we loved to do that so much, maybe it was the affirmation of life in the simple sound of someone's breath entering and leaving their lungs.  I sometimes woke up in the middle of the night just to hear it.

"By the way, I'm looking into a spot for our honeymoon.  Would you rather stay in Marrakech or Casablanca?"

"Which is more romantic?"

"Well, Casablanca is on the sea - "

"Casablanca!"

He laughed.  "Casablanca it is.  Here's looking at you, kid."

"Kiss me as if it were the last time."

"I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

I couldn't think of any more movie quotes except the famously incorrect one, so I paused and waited for him to rattle off another one - but he was waiting too and we both started to laugh at the same time.

"You're not going to say it?"

"No, you'll call me out on it."

"Ha!  You know me all too well."  He chuckled a little and then sighed.  "I've missed you so much, darling.  Just a few more weeks."

"Yeah."

I heard him talking to someone for a moment, then when he spoke to me again his voice was soft and reassuring.  "Don't worry about anything, sweetheart.  It will all be okay, I promise."

I knew he was right, but I was feeling melancholy from missing him...I nodded, even though he obviously couldn't see me.  "I'll see you soon.  I love you."

He smiled.  I don't know how I knew, but I could see it in my heart.  He'd probably seen me nod the same way.

"I love you too, darling.  See you soon."

 

Three weeks later I was on a plane over the North Atlantic, landing in Morocco with my little carry on bag and my Kindle - the two things I'd had with me when I'd left the US for England.  But this time it was very different...I wasn't running from anything.  I was running _to_ something, to my husband who was waiting for me with a huge grin on his face as he stood behind the arrivals partition, so anxious to get to me and hug me that the security guard assigned to keep people behind the line kept shooting him a suspicious eye.  When I finally made it to him he practically threw himself on me, grabbing me up in a hug that lifted me well off the ground and made me squeal in happy protest and drop my bag.  It was all very sweet and exciting and romantic, but what the people around us didn't see was his lips pressing hard against my ear, whispering darkly,

_"Fuck baby, I've missed you so much...I want you so bad."_

 

He lay beside me, lazily stroking my nipple while he watched my face, gauging my reactions.  I tried to keep a straight face but was failing miserably.

"Would you like to go to the sea tomorrow?"

I turned my head and looked out the glassless window that stretched from high vaulted ceiling to floor, sheer diaphanous curtain billowing softly in the breeze, out to the ocean that seemed to be right in our front yard.

"We _are_ at the sea, silly."

He gave my nipple a little pinch and kissed my shoulder.  "I mean _in_ it.  It's warm year round, you can always swim.  And this stretch of beach is private, we can go nude if we want."

"Skinnydipping's allowed?"

"Is that what it's called?   _Skinnydipping._  Good word.  But yes, it's allowed."  He gave me another playful nip, at the curve of my neck this time, and groaned heavily when I sighed in response to his teeth on my skin.  "I'd take you down there today but I have other plans for you until dinner time."

I turned over on my side and rested my chin on his shoulder.  "That sounds a little bit threatening.  But interesting.  What else is there left for us to do?"

He grinned, that wide, devilish smile he was famous for.  "Well, we've done missionary...spooned, done doggy...there was that one against the dresser..."

I started giggling and it rapidly turned to embarrassed groans as he listed off all the positions we'd blasted through in our first few hours together. _"No no no, stop - "_  I buried my face in his shoulder and bit him, but he wasn't about to give me a break.

"...we've christened the shower because you felt - and I quote - _icky_ after the third time, which I believe was a sixty-nine..."

 _"Stopppp_ please oh my god!"

"And then of course you rode me because my back was tired after the thing with the dresser - "

"Enough!"

He started laughing, proclaiming a loud _ouch_ when I bit him again, this time on the inside of his elbow.  "Well you were the one who asked what else there is left for us to do."

"Yeah, I asked what's left, not what we've done."  I started to sit up but he grabbed me by the elbow and tugged me back down onto him again.

"And who gave you permission to leave the bed, hmm?"  Pushing me onto my back and moving himself over my body, he started kissing me, starting with my lips and working his way down, slowly, agonizingly, paying close attention to every bit as he went.  He slid his lips down my inner arm till he reached that sensitive little patch of skin at the inner bend of my elbow, sucking at it gently till I felt a sting and knew he was leaving a lovebite there.  I sucked in my breath and closed my eyes tight, allowing him to kiss and suck his way down to my wrist, where he nuzzled his lips against my pulsepoint, grazing it with his teeth. It was incredibly sensual and felt more intimate, more amazingly sexual, than I ever would have thought possible.

"That's my _arm,"_ I whispered in a quivering voice.

"Yes, yes it is," he whispered back, moving down to my open palm, licking and kissing to the little creases where my fingers attached to my hand.  I shivered.

"How does it feel like sex when it's my _hand?"_

He chuckled softly, taking my pinkie finger into his mouth and suckling it gently.  "Anything can feel like sex, darling...any part of your body, as long as it's treated right."  To prove his point, he shifted, laying my arm down beside me and moving lower to press his mouth to my stomach.  I flinched and clenched up;  my scars were still sensitive, but he rested his hands on my hips and stroked me with his thumbs to settle me back down.  And then his lips and tongue began their slow, maddening descent downward, licking and kissing and nuzzling and nudging their way right past my crotch and all the achingly sensitive bits it contained - he never even touched me there, just kept moving slowly down my inner thigh, lifting my leg so he could lick behind my knee, trailing his tongue down my calf to my ankle where he gave me a nipping little bite on the bone.  I jerked my leg and he stopped, tilting his face up to look at me.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?"

There was a teasing lilt of amusement in his voice and I knew he was taking great pleasure in this torturous game of arousal.

"I'm...I'm good."

He ran his tongue up the inside of my knee, exhaling his warm breath across the damp trail he'd left.  "Are you sure about that?" he whispered;  I felt him shifting on the bed, settling in between my thighs, spreading them with his hands as his mouth roamed higher, closer to my rapidly heating private bits.  I groaned miserably and gripped the sheets.

"No really, I'm...I'm good..."

I barely had the words out when his tongue flicked against my clit - I was so aroused by this point that I nearly came just from that brief touch, and he took my arched back and strangled gasp as his invitation to separate my folds with his fingers and push his mouth against my opening.  I cried out and grabbed his head, tangling my hands in his hair, and before I realized I was saying anything a desperate jumble of words flew from my mouth. 

 _"Ohhhh FUCK_ please...please Tom...I want you...oh god _please put it in - "_

I felt his mouth break contact with me, but his breath still tickled my wet skin;  it should have had a cooling effect, but it only made me hotter.

"Say it, baby," he growled, and I knew exactly what he wanted.  This part of him rared its kinky head from time to time and I always obliged it...it was the absolute least I could do for him, and despite the way it made me shiver with embarrassed arousal, the truth was that I liked it too.  It fit into our relationship perfectly, not defining it, but putting a name on  part of it like a little gift-wrapped package that we kept under the bed, taking it out and untying the bow whenever we felt the need.

I opened my eyes and looked down at him.  The expression on his face told me he was feeling that need, right now.

 _"Please..."_ I moaned, feeling my face flush hot. _"Please daddy...put your fat cock inside me...now...please."_

The wide grin that spread across his face as he crawled up my body to hurriedly settle on top of me made me feel so alive that I choked on a sob as he pushed in, stretching me wide and thrusting deep.  It was fast and messy and it hurt as much as it felt good, but I wanted it that way, I wanted to feel every inch of him as far inside me as I could, to have my body absorb every move he made and to _know_ without any doubt that he was inside me.  As I looked up at him, at his sweaty face and his tightly closed eyes, brow furrowed in intense concentration and mouth slightly open, breathing hard and heavy, I knew one thing with a piercing clarity unlike any other bit of knowledge I had ever stored away in my brain.

I knew that I loved him, and that _this_ \- this man on top of me, whose breath and body I was sharing, was the man I would spend the rest of my life with, make a family with, and grow old alongside.

 _"There's my good little girl,"_ he murmured soothingly against my throat as I melted beneath him.

 

I slapped my hands over my face as he scooted back down my body, a whining groan coming from between my fingers.  We'd finished quickly, perhaps one of our quickest ever, and he'd pulled out of me immediately after to kiss his way down to my belly.

"Oh my god I hope I didn't get pregnant just now, did you hear what I _said?!"_ I'd broken my own rule about no swearing or nastiness or kink while we were trying to conceive, but that last round had firmly blown all three parts of the law out of the water.

"I heard," he laughed, burying his face in my stomach.  "I think it'll be okay though darling, we can come up with a cover story between now and when she's nine."

"She?"

He pulled his face up from where he was planting soft little kisses along the dip of my bellybutton and grinned.  "Yeah, she.  Don't you have a preference?"

"No, not really.  You want a girl though?"

He shrugged, rolling over onto his back with his head resting on my stomach.  "I would love a little girl.  I don't really know why."  He seemed to think about it for a minute, then crinkled his brow.  "Maybe it's because I have two sisters and I adore them."

"You tormented them."

"True, but that just means I'm a boy.  It's what we do."

"Well I hope you get what you want then.  I'm not sure I could handle two of you."  I stroked my fingers through his hair and sighed happily, but he must have thought I was upset because he kissed my hip, propping his head up on one hand to look at me with a reassuring smile.

"It'll be okay, sweetheart.  Honestly, the baby won't know what mummy and dad got up to."  He laid his hand on my stomach and rubbed gently.  "Do you hear that?" he whispered, pressing his lips just above my pubic bone.  "Don't look and don't listen, you're far too young for this sort of nonsense and I don't want to have to start a fund for your trauma therapy."

I laughed.  "There's nothing in there, you loon."

"Of course there is," he said brightly, moving back up to kiss me on the lips.  "There's a bit of me and a bit of you...that's all it takes."

 _And a bit of luck,_ I thought as he began nuzzling warmly into my neck.

 

The next morning after breakfast we went down to the beach and splashed around a bit before a mischievous glint began sparkling in Tom's eyes and he suddenly stripped out of his swim trunks, wading naked into the warm water.  I watched him, a little bit nervous because I knew he was going to insist I do the same.  When he turned to look at me and motioned me to follow, I shook my head stubbornly and stayed where I stood.

He laughed at me, shaking his head and giving me a scolding look.

"You got completely naked, one hundred percent starkers nearly every day for what - seven weeks? - in front of an _entire_ film crew of _complete_ strangers...have you forgotten that?  You played body double in a film that has been seen in probably thirty countries by a million people.  And yet you're too shy to strip on a semi private beach with maybe four other human beings within squinting distance."

I glanced up the beach at the resort buildings and houses that peppered the distance.  "Someone might have a telescope aimed down here." 

"Come on darling, no one is going to see you - and if they do, so what?  You're perfect and gorgeous and I pity anyone who isn't me and doesn't get to bask in your naked beauty."

"You're not helping."

He grinned, squinting in the bright sunlight, bobbing up and down in the water so that it splashed up past his chin.  He raised his hands to cup around his mouth and started yelling, "Take it off!  Take it all off!"

"Shut up!"  I looked around to see if anyone heard him and kicked some water into his face.  He laughed and turned his face away, dunking himself.  "Does it get deep fast?"

"Yes...but I'll hold you up, you'll be okay.  Come on in baby."  One hand came up out of the water, extended toward me, the smile on his face suddenly sweet and inviting.  "Come on."

A deep breath, and I cast a quick look up the beach to see if anyone was looking;  the people nearest us were busy throwing a frisbee with their dog, so I closed my eyes and pulled my shirt off over my head. Once it was gone, I looked at Tom and saw his grin had widened and his eyes were trained on me, their piercing blue seeming so much brighter in the sun.  "That's it, darling," he encouraged me with a wink. "Now the bikini top."

I groaned in resignation and untied the halter knot at the back of my neck, holding my arm across my chest as I tugged the top off and dropped it.  I expected Tom to give me a disapproving look because I was covering my breasts with my arm and hand, but he was still grinning approvingly from his vantage point in the water.  His hand came up again and he pointed to the bottom of my bikini.

"Bottoms off, baby."

"Can't I just keep them on?  I took my top off."  I gave him a pleading look, but he was slowly shaking his head, motioning downward with his finger.

"Bottoms.  Off."

I dropped my head back and groaned miserably;  determined to show him I could do this, I quickly hooked my thumbs in the sides and slipped them down my legs, stepping out of them and standing back up with my hand spread in front of myself.  It didn't cover enough, but Tom was still the only one looking, so I swallowed hard and moved both my hands away and stood fully exposed in front of him.  His eyes dropped and then slowly inched back up, his grin growing even wider than before.  "Gorgeous, baby," he said approvingly.  "Now come to daddy."

I eyed the water suspiciously;  I wasn't afraid of deep water and I was a good swimmer, but I couldn't see beneath the surface and my stomach muscles were much weaker than they'd been before the surgery. Tom seemed to know what I was worried about and moved toward me a bit till he was chest deep.

"If you're not in here in three seconds I'm going to whistle."

"You wouldn't."

"I would.  Why would you want to stand out there, fully exposed, when you could be in here with me, hidden discreetly in this lovely warm water?"

Before I could respond he raised his fingers to his mouth and let off a shrill, ear piercing whistle that set the neighbors' dog to barking.  It came running toward us, its owners' heads whipping around to see where it was going.

"You ass!"

I ran into the water and was almost to Tom when the bottom suddenly dropped away, much quicker and sharper than I expected, and I went straight under.  He instantly grabbed me up and pulled me above the surface as I sputtered and grabbed frantically at him, finally finding his neck and wrapping my arms around it as I coughed and choked in his face.  I was hanging off his front with my legs wrapped tightly around his middle when I finally caught my breath and he held me close against his chest, patting me on the back and laughing quietly.

"There, see?  What did I tell you, the water's nice and warm."

"You're a dick," I whined against his neck, still coughing a little.  Some water had gone up my nose and the salt was burning my sinuses.  I normally had an aversion to calling people names, but the situation called for it and I gave him a hard bite on the collarbone to let him know I wasn't happy with his hijinks.  He dunked me under the water up to my chin in a thinly veiled threat to behave.

"Be a good girl Anna," he said with an authority to his voice that made me shiver.  "Spanking a wet bottom hurts _much_ worse." 

He lowered me just a little till my underside was rubbing against the hair on his lower belly;  the friction was nice and made me suck my breath in, and I hugged onto him a little bit tighter with my arms and legs, getting as close to him as I could.  The warm water caressing our skin was both soothing and arousing and I found myself purposefully rubbing on him.

When I opened my eyes a few moments later, I saw that he was watching my face with a wicked little grin.

"No no, don't stop baby," he pleaded when I went still, suddenly embarrassed to be doing pretty much the equivalent of masturbating in public.  "Go on darling, make yourself come," he murmured against my ear. "It's okay... _I'll help you."_

His hand slipped down between us and I squirmed uncomfortably when his fingers began stroking me, but he soothed me with gentle words until I relaxed and lay against his chest, my head on his shoulder, just letting him give me pleasure as the warm waves lapped softly against us.  Whispering quietly, he slipped himself into me and positioned one arm under my bottom to move me up and down on him.  The water made me weightless and he lifted and lowered me effortlessly...it was heaven, and almost immediately I forgot that we were in the ocean, in Casablanca, out in the open for anyone who cared to look to see us in all our public-lovemaking glory.  

All I cared about was him and me and maybe, possibly, coming back here one day to show our kids the warm blue North Atlantic sea, smiling knowingly at each other as we held hands, knowing this was where we succeeded.

 

 

_To be continued..._


	36. Chapter 36

 

 

Two beautiful weeks in Casablanca came to an end far too quickly, and as soon as we got home I came down sick with a viral infection that brought on a sore throat and a sick stomach.  Tom was worried I'd gotten it in Morocco and took me to the hospital for a full workup of blood tests, then brought me home and put me to bed.  He was leaving again in a week, for just a few days this time, but he wanted me well before he left and so he had flashed that devilish smile of his at the nurse and asked if she could put a rush on things for us.

He was in the city doing some voiceover work when the lab tech from the hospital called with my results - I knew her from my many visits with the specialist, so we chatted for a minute before I told her Tom wanted me to be well from this virus before we started trying to get pregnant again.  She paused for a moment and I could hear papers shuffling in the background.

"But Anna, you're already pregnant hon."

I dropped my cup and it shattered at my feet, splashing scalding coffee all over my legs and ankles, but I didn't even feel it.  It was a long while before I could breathe again, and even longer before I could speak.

_"What?"_

"Your blood hCG test is positive."

"And that means...?"

"It means you're pregnant.  I guess you didn't know yet, huh?"

"No...no, I didn't.  I mean, I had a negative test about five weeks ago - "  I didn't feel like going into details about the whole blighted ovum thing, so I just said _negative_ instead.  "And the first time we were together after that was just two weeks ago on our honeymoon."  I did some quick math in my head and realized my period was just barely late - Tom hadn't noticed yet because we'd been gone, and then I'd been sick ever since we got back home.

"Blood tests are very sensitive, they can detect a pregnancy as early as six days after you ovulate...so yeah, you definitely got pregnant on your honeymoon.  Congratulations!"

I may have mumbled thank you or something like it, but I really don't remember.  All I did remember was her telling me I was positive for some viral strain that was common with this year's flu, so there was no need to worry about any exotic diseases contracted overseas.  And she told me to get with my specialist about starting my prenatal care, as well as treating my virus symptoms.

I nodded dumbly, knowing she couldn't see me to know I was agreeing to everything, but I was just too speechless to even try responding any other way.

 

When Tom came home, I was still sitting at the table in the same place I'd been when the nurse had called.  He stepped in the back door and greeted me cheerfully, dropping his bag of papers and scripts, shrugging out of his coat and looking back at me over his shoulder as he pulled his iPod buds out of his ears;  he'd just realized I didn't say hello back to him and his face went instantly concerned.

"Anna?  What's wrong darling?"

Coming quickly around the table, he stepped on a chunk of my broken cup and jumped back, looking around in shock at all the shattered glass and splashed coffee.  "Shit sweetheart, are you okay?"  He knelt down and grabbed my bare feet, checking them for cuts, looking up at me worriedly.  His eyes fell to the phone in my hand and he took it gently out of my grasp while I just stared at him.

"You're moving too fast," I finally said.  He'd only been in the house for maybe thirty seconds and all this had already transpired - sometimes he was so hyper he made me dizzy, like he was moving in fast motion while I sat there at regular speed, just trying to keep my eyes focused on him.

"Who called you?" he asked, his voice suddenly panicked as he started checking my call log and saw the most recent received call.  "The hospital?  Are you okay Anna?  What did they say?"

I started laughing, covering my mouth with my hands because I knew if I heard my own voice I was going to start crying.  It was silly and stupid but I felt trapped inside some alternate reality, watching from somewhere else, afraid to see how this scene ended for fear it would either be a cliffhanger or a devastating bit of drama cranked up for ratings.  But he was getting ready to hit redial, and I really wanted him to hear it from me.

"I've got a bug, but it's domestic," I started, my voice a bit shaky.  He was still kneeling in front of me with his hands on my knees, staring worriedly into my eyes.  I tried to look away but he looked so genuinely scared, it was almost heartbreaking.  "It seems they tested for a lot of other things too, did you order that?"

He nodded, and I could see him trembling a little.  "Yeah, I told them to do the whole standard battery, so we'll know if you're completely healthy before we start trying again."

I stared at him for a moment, then started to giggle.  "Well, aside from this infection, I seem to be in pretty good shape.  Such good shape, in fact, that we don't even need to try anymore."

He stared back, uncomprehending, and I leaned forward to take his glasses off.  He looked like such a dorky professor in them, I couldn't handle it.  I set them on the table and he watched me, but I could tell he was about to explode from needing to know what was going on.

"What does that mean?" he finally asked quietly, absolute confusion furrowing his brow.  I leaned forward again and took his face in my hands, bending to kiss the tip of his nose.

"It means I have to go see Doctor Paige tomorrow about a prescription for some real prenatal vitamins."

It took a moment for realization to dawn on his face.  He was usually much quicker on the uptake than this, but I think the shock had him operating on half intelligence.

"One of the tests they did was hCG."

"Human chorionic gonadotropin."  He was starting to grin now, just the tiniest bit.

"Um...yes.  And it was positive."

The grin widened a bit more.  "So...you're pregnant?"

I nodded.

"For real?"

I nodded again.

The grin suddenly changed to a full blown smile that was so beautiful, so angelic, so perfect and pure and full of love and adoration that all I could do was sit there with my hands over my mouth, staring at him. And then his eyes brightened suddenly with a rush of tears that made them sparkle, the bluest blue I've ever seen, bluer even than the sea where we'd finally, finally, managed to accomplish this small miracle.

He laid his head in my lap, his arms coming up to wrap around my middle.

"I bet it was the time you said _fuck me daddy."_

"Oh my god!" I squealed, slapping his shoulder.  "Shut up, I don't even want to think about that!"  He started laughing, a deep and happy laugh that sounded so true and honest that suddenly every other laugh I'd ever heard in my life seemed fake, insincere.  The only things in the world that seemed right and real were here in my kitchen with me, hugging my legs and giggling.  I laid my hand on his head and pulled at one of his springy curls.  "Take me upstairs, daddy."

He raised his head and looked at me, a cute expression of hope and excitement raising his eyebrows and slacking his jaw.  "Really?"

"Yes really."  I tugged at his hair again.  "But I meant daddy as in your new title, not...you know.. _.that_ kind of daddy."

 

He climbed into bed beside me, his eyes falling down to my stomach as he settled next to me;  I watched him closely as he laid his hand over the one scar that was still a bit red, just below my bellybutton.  "Just a few days old," he said quietly, rubbing me gently.  "So amazing."  He turned his face up to me and smiled.  "I'll be very careful with you."

"I'm not suddenly fragile," I scolded, wrapping my arms around his neck as he scooted up to lay over me.  "But you have my permission to be extra nice when I'm forty pounds heavier and you can't reach my cookie anymore."

"I can always reach your cookie," he corrected me, his lips beginning to caress my skin as his hands started to roam.  "One of the advantages to having a big cock."

"Well you're not modest at all, are you."

_"Shhhhh...."_

 

The next afternoon he went back into the city to do some more voice work and I sat at the kitchen table, looking at my bottle of vitamins.  The real ones, the ones you take when you're really pregnant, not just trying to get that way.  It was huge and the pills were an inch long, but I happily choked one down with some orange juice.  There were pamphlets scattered all over the table that Tom had collected from the clinic and I started to laugh, looking at some of the titles on the front pages -  _Physiological and Psychological Advantages to Breastfeeding.  Emotional Impacts of Pregnancy:  Pre- and Post-Natal Depression.  Vaginal Delivery Vs C-Section, Which Is Right For You?_  and his apparent personal favorite, which was lying open where he'd been reading it:   _Sex During Pregnancy: Fact and Fallacy._ I gathered them all up into a stack and sat there finishing my orange juice, just happy and warm and feeling truly settled for the first time...possibly ever.

Eva was in the livingroom with two of her kids, trying to get them down for a nap.  I'd called her on our way home from the doctor and told her our news;  she was so excited she was at our house before we were, running out to meet us at the car with a big noisy hug and a no-arguments insistence that we'd shop online for maternity clothes as soon as her kids went to sleep.  Tom had watched with a big grin as we went into the house ahead of him, picking up one of the kids that had run out into the yard and following us inside with the rowdy toddler tossed over his shoulder.

He'd been gone to work for about an hour and I was upstairs using the bathroom when I heard Eva yell in the front room.  I thought she must be scolding one of the kids, but when I listened closer it sounded like she was asking _Who do you think you are?_    But I couldn't be sure, because I suddenly heard another voice that turned my blood to ice.  I stood in the middle of the bedroom, frozen, stuck in a dead panic that made my legs feel like stone.  That wasn't a two-year old talking back to her, and it wasn't Chris or Tom.

"She's not here!" I heard her yell - but there were already footsteps coming up the stairs, running.

Footsteps that I knew.

 

When he came into the doorway and stood there, silhouetted from behind by the hallway light, I couldn't see his face.  He was just the shape of a very tall man, filling the doorway.  But he spoke, and I knew then that it definitely wasn't Tom, I hadn't fallen asleep and this wasn't a dream.

"Hello, Anna."

There was nowhere for me to run...we were upstairs and he was blocking the only exit from the bedroom.  I could hear Eva coming up the stairs yelling for me, but he stepped inside and shut the door, turning the lock with a sickening little click.  He turned to me and I could finally see his face.

"Did you really think I wouldn't find you?"

 

Amazingly, being able to see him clearly gave me the courage to speak.

"Get out of my house, Eric."

"Or you'll what?  Have your little yapping pet out there bite my ankle?"  A chilling grin crossed his face and I looked away, unable to face that look.  I'd seen it so many times.

"Tom is - "

"Not here," he finished for me, cutting me off.  He was leaning against the door, not making any move to come closer, but I started slowly backing away till I bumped the dresser.  There was nowhere for me to go but I had to be as far away from that grin as I could get.  Eva was beating on the door, still yelling, making threats and saying her husband was on his way...but I knew he wasn't.  Chris was over an hour away. And Tom...Tom was only five minutes up the road, but he kept his phone off when he was doing studio work.  I remembered Eva's phone being on the charger in the kitchen, completely dead, and couldn't even begin to think where mine was.  We were on our own until the police came, _if_ the neighbors heard all the screaming and did the favor for us.

I took a deep breath and looked at him, knowing I was going to have to find a way to stand up to him and keep him at a safe distance for as long as possible, counting on his love of verbal abuse to buy me some time.  But he didn't seem interested in insulting or berating me with words.  Not this time.  This time, he just came straight for me, not even trying to scare me first.

I must have screamed when he grabbed me and threw me backwards onto the bed, because Eva started screaming louder from outside.  It was confusing me and I tried to remember as I struggled - there was a key that fit all the doors in the house, somewhere.  Where??  But I couldn't think about it anymore because Eric was suddenly on top of me, wrestling me into submission and pinning me to the bed with his body, his hand coming up to grip my throat and squeeze until I choked.

I kicked, thrashed, bit him, slammed my head into his - but nothing was going to stop him, and in the dreadful moment when I realized what was going to happen, my mind turned the volume down on everything and I closed my eyes, listening hard to the noise from the hall, anything to drown out the sound of his heavy breathing against my ear and the sickening sounds of my own strangulation.  I was vaguely aware that Eva was suddenly much quieter, and there was a new sound now, the sound of a very small _click._  

Over Eric's shoulder I saw something move, but before my eyes could focus on the motion he caught the shift of my eyes and turned.  He was momentarily off balance enough that I was able to push him over and scramble out from under him, falling clumsily off the bed in my frantic desperation to get away from him, choking and grabbing at my own throat to try to get my air moving again.  But he wasn't coming after me, wasn't grabbing me and hauling me back onto the bed to either kill me or have his way with me.  He was looking at someone, grinning that same twisted, cold, malicious grin.  Grinning at someone else in the room besides the two of us. 

When I finally got my breath enough to speak, all I could say was his name.

"Tom!"

He was standing two feet away, my baseball bat held aloft, a look on his face of pure murder.  I'd never seen him look like that before.  He glanced at me for a brief moment before turning his glare back to Eric.

"Anna, you and Eva take the babies and get next door.  Lock yourselves in and call the police."  He never took his eyes off Eric, his voice low and steady and absolutely, coldly, in control.  "Tell them I've killed an intruder."

I stood paralyzed till he shouted  _"Do it now!"_

I ran past him and grabbed Eva, who was standing just inside the door, her face red from screaming.  The last thing I saw before we scooped up the crying kids and ran out of the house was Tom, staring at Eric with the bat resting on his shoulder, and Eric, staring back, that chilling grin never wavering.

 

It seemed like forever before the police came; I watched from Mrs Barton's front window as they went into our house, then came out several endless minutes later with Eric, restrained.  He was put into their car and finally I saw Tom come out onto the front steps.  Only then did I realize I'd been holding my breath, my heart clenched up in fear, scared to death that he might not come out.

"What's happening over there?" Eva asked, edging in beside me to look out the window.  "Do they have him?"

"Yeah," I answered absently, trying to see what Tom was doing.  He appeared to be talking to one of the constables.  He looked unhurt, but I could barely see him through the rose bushes between the two houses. "I have to get over there."

"Anna, he said to stay here."

"Like hell.  That man tried to kill me."

 

Tom looked over and saw me as soon as I stepped out onto the porch.  So did Eric; I could see him through the squad car's window, sitting restrained in the back seat.  He was still grinning and it chilled me straight through to my bones.

One of the officers approached me.  "Anna Hiddleston?"

"Yes."

"We'll need you to fill out a statement about the attack.  Come with me please?"

 

When we got home, Chris was there with Eva and the kids.  Eva jumped up off the sofa and ran to me, throwing her arms around me, tearfully asking if I was alright and fretting over the bruises on my neck.  She sounded distraught and I felt so bad that she'd had to go through all this.  Tom talked with Chris for a few minutes and then they left, going back to their hotel for the night; I asked if they would stay with us, but they refused, saying we needed to be alone to get some rest without their noisy kids keeping us awake.

When they were gone, the house seemed frighteningly quiet.

Tom led me upstairs and drew a bath for me, then sat beside the tub while I soaked.

"Tell me what happened before I came in," he finally said, quietly.  I could feel, more than actually hear, the underlying anger in his voice.  I shook my head but he wasn't about to accept that for an answer.

"What did he do to you."

"Nothing."

_"What did he do to you?"_

"Nothing!"

"I'm going to ask you one more time, Anna - "

"Then just ask me!  Don't be vague and leave it to me to figure out what you want!  What exactly do you want to know?!"

He stared at me for a moment, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Did he rape you?"

"No."

"Anna - "

I slammed my hands down on the water, splashing it out over the side of the tub.  My voice was much louder than I intended it to be when I answered, but I was getting frustrated and angry and I was still so horrifically shaken by what had happened.  Eric had found me, in my own house, while my husband was gone.  The only thing that had saved me was a five foot tall woman who refused to stop screaming and Tom, coming home suddenly because he'd sensed something wasn't okay.

"Eva was there the entire time.  Ask her!  The whole thing was maybe five minutes from start to finish, not even Eric could commit rape in that small of a timeframe."

"She was locked out of the room."

"And I told you and the police everything that went on inside it!"  I glared at him, suddenly a strange mixture of furious and sad.  Leaning back in the tub, I closed my eyes, sighing heavily.  "I'm just so tired.  I want to sleep.  Please let me sleep."

After a moment, he reached in and pulled the plug from the tub.  "Not in here," he said quietly, getting a towel from the pantry and holding it open for me.

 

He put me into bed in the guest room - I told him I wanted to change the bedding in our bedroom before we slept there again, and he seemed to understand why, nodding wordlessly as he led me down the hall to the spare.  While I was climbing into the bed, I asked him if the police had gotten any information out of Eric.

"Yes," he said quietly, and for a long moment I thought that was all he was going to say.  When he finally continued, his face went curiously blank.  "They told me how he found you.  Do you want to know?"

I wasn't sure what I should say, or what I _wanted_ to say.  So I just nodded, sitting up in the bed, waiting.

"While the packers were at your place, he went in and told them he was your brother and that you'd asked him to find a few things and make sure they got sent to you.  I would bet he's the one who put that trinket box into the crate.  All he had to do was look at the shipping labels to find out where you are."  The blank expression was suddenly replaced by something else, something unnervingly like anger.  "Since he knows London, actually finding you was easy."

I felt myself flinch.   _Here it comes._

"Anna, why the fuck didn't you tell me he knows his way around London?!  Did that not seem like an important bit of information that might come in handy while I'm trying to make you safe from him?!  What the hell were you _thinking?!"_

I squinted my eyes shut, unable to look at him;  my hands went up to cover my ears without me thinking about it.  I couldn't stand to hear the anger in his voice and to know that I'd caused it.  

He mistook my reaction for fear of being hit and immediately stepped back from me, putting his hands behind his back to show me he wasn't going to touch me.  He stopped talking and just stood there, breathing hard, his chest heaving with barely contained rage.  When he spoke again, his voice was calm, but breathless.

"I'm going outside to calm down.  I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?  You stay right here."

I watched as he turned and walked out, without taking another look back at me.

 

When he came back, I was laying on my side facing away from the door;  he slipped into the bed behind me and pressed up against me, his arms wrapping around my stomach to rub soothingly.

"How's my baby?"

Scooting back against him, cold and desperately wanting to feel his warmth, I put one hand over his and swallowed hard to keep the tremor out of my voice.  "Which one of us?"

He nudged his face against the back of my neck and I could feel his smile.

"Both of you."

Turning in his arms, I shifted around till I was facing him and tried to get closer, to pull some heat and strength out of him and make myself feel better.  But there was a pervasive feeling of sadness and anxiety twisting in my gut that the concerned look on his face did nothing to alleviate.

"Did you think I was going to hit you?" he finally asked, quietly, pressing a little kiss to my forehead.

"For a second, maybe.  Just a kneejerk reaction.  I knew you wouldn't...but...I've never seen you like that before."  I turned my face up to look at him and was momentarily ashamed that I'd ever thought him capable of such a thing.  "I wasn't sure what you'd do."

_One day he'll hit you, you'll see._

"I would walk away before I would physically hurt you, Anna," he said, tugging me closer to him.  "Always know that, okay?"

I nodded, letting him hug me so tight it took my breath away.  "Did you really come home because you felt like something was wrong?"

"Yes."

"You mean you just...knew...I wasn't okay?"

Strong arms tightened around me again, a big warm hand coming up to push my head against his chest.  I could hear his heart beating.  "Shhhh, darling...get some sleep.  We'll talk about this more later."

I closed my eyes, the nervous feeling in my stomach suddenly gone, replaced with a warm contentment and sense of safety.  Tom had known I wasn't okay, and had raced home to find out why.  I'd read about soulmates my entire life, thinking what a wonderful thing it would be to have one, and always wondered if it was real or just the construct of silly romantic movies.

Now I knew...it was real.  And I had one.

 

_To be continued..._

 


	37. Chapter 37

 

Two weeks went by before I was finally able to finish unloading the last box from home.  Just knowing Eric had touched my things...I wondered which of my possessions he had handled, which ones he had put into the box himself, what he'd done to them before they were packed away.  I felt an overwhelming urge to wash everything, and promptly threw all my clothes into the laundry.

Tom's attitude toward me had changed - he didn't smile as quickly as he used to, didn't call me darling quite as often. It was a small shift, just barely noticeable, but I noticed.  And I bit my tongue, knowing I'd caused it and had no right to question it.  It hurt, but it was a lesson I intended to take to heart.

He came in while I was putting the last of the things away and began disassembling the big box, flattening it to put it outside for the trash men.

"You know...the reason the bat was in that box...I'm pretty sure he was the one who put it there."  He raised an eyebrow and looked at me, but didn't say anything.  It made me uncomfortable and I started rambling.  "I stood up to him with that bat once and got in a couple of good hits with it before he took it away and threatened to crack my skull open with it.  I know he put it in there as a reminder that I never could successfully defend myself from him.  And look what happened."  I smiled, hoping he would follow suit.  "You turned the tables on him with it."

He was quiet for a long moment, collapsing the box, stepping on it to flatten it more.  The silence started to become uncomfortable and I finally stood up, looking around the room nervously.  I felt trapped, and he was between me and the door- something I had trouble with since that day Eric got between me and the only way out of the bedroom.

"He's gone, Anna," he finally said, his voice low and a little bit terse.  "The only way he can get back into the UK is if he sneaks in, and that's unlikely to happen.  Luke's legal team are doing their best to get him on every charge they can, they'll guarantee he doesn't ever get back in."

I nodded, unsure what to say in response.  "I'm not worried about him.  I feel like he's done with me."

The look in Tom's eyes as his head jerked up was something caught between anger and surprise.  "You feel like he's done with you?  Really?"

I nodded, suddenly feeling sick.  His tone was...off.  Worrisomely so.

"Yes - "

"Anna, he's _never_ going to be done with you.  Do you understand?  You studied psychology but you seem to have no concept of what makes that man tick.  But I do - he runs on pure spite and malice and he most certainly is _not_ done with you!"  Throwing the box down, he raked his hands through his hair and took one step back from me - a habit he'd picked up lately, ever since his temper had begun showing itself around the edges.  "When I was in the police station with him do you know what he did?  He sat there grinning through the entire questioning session.  They let me watch from outside the glass and that man - that fucking  _monster_ \- sat there smiling, staring at the glass like he knew I was there, and he _confessed_ Anna - he confessed to things you say he didn't do, all the while giving me that smug arrogant asshole _smile!"_

 _"What?"_ I backed up, an unconscious reaction to his raised voice and aggressive posture, even though he hadn't made a move toward me.  "What did he say he did?"

"Do you want to know?  Because I'll tell you."

I nodded without thinking.  I knew what had happened...didn't I?  I suddenly wasn't so sure.  "Yes."

Tom laughed, closing his eyes and turning his face up to the ceiling.  "Maybe he said those things because they didn't actually happen and he knew that as long as you didn't file charges for those particular crimes, he could claim he did it without repercussion.  Maybe he just said them for my benefit, to fuck with my head.  Probably.  But goddammit Anna, I swear to you if what he said is true and you've been lying to me - "

His words suddenly blurred in my ears and all I could hear was my own heartbeat, a warning of all of five seconds before I turned around and threw up.  I didn't realize I'd gone down to my hands and knees until he was beside me, holding my head in his hands.

"Shit.  Fuck, I'm sorry baby.  I'm sorry."  He tugged my hair back out of the way and I heaved again, spewing all over the floor, sobbing in between heaves.

_"Help, Tom - "_

"I am, I've got you."  I stopped vomiting long enough for him to pick me and up and get me into the bathroom before I started again, soaking us both before he could sit me in the tub.

_"I didn't lie...I didn't..."_

"Okay.  Okay, sweetheart."

"I didn't."

"Shhh...stop talking about it."

My stomach hurt and my ribs were aching and the water was cold as ice when he first turned it on, but by the time it had warmed up the nausea had settled sufficiently for me to gather my wits enough to be mad.  Mad that he doubted me, mad that he wasn't sure in his own head that I'd told him the truth, and more than anything, mad that he'd been treating me like just slightly less than a wife since the day Eric was escorted out of our house.  I reached up and slapped him.

I think he was stunned for a moment, then a look of acceptance fell across his face and he nodded, without ever looking at me.

"I deserved that."

"Stop acting like I don't know what happened.  Stop treating me as if I've got some mental disorder that keeps me from recognizing reality.  Stop behaving like my fucking father because _YOU'RE - NOT - HIM!"_

I stood up in the tub and started undressing;  my clothes were covered in puke and now soggy since he'd turned the water on.  He moved to help me and I pushed his hands away.  "I can do it myself.  I don't need you babying me, I'm a grown ass woman.  Save the daddy shit for the bedroom."

The last bit was meant to hurt, and I could tell it did by the way he flinched.

As he walked out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him, I wondered briefly if he would wait for me in the bedroom or leave the house.  I didn't really care.  I just felt sick and weak and angry, and as I threw my wet clothes onto the floor and turned on the shower, all I really wanted was a very long nap.

 

A nap that I took, under five blankets including my favorite one from home and behind a locked door, which I pulled the nightstand over in front of just because.  I knew Tom was in the hall listening to me drag it across the room, probably shaking his head in annoyed disbelief, but I didn't care.  I didn't want him near me.  This was a completely new thing for me, this sudden defiance and need to be on my own, and I wasn't about to let him cuddle it out of me like he was so good at doing.  This was _my_ anger and indignation and I intended to work my way through it, by myself.

Once I'd settled in under my heavy cocoon of blankets, I wrapped my arms around my stomach and willed myself not to cry.   _You're doing this to me, aren't you?_   I thought, rubbing the bump that was starting to become noticeable from certain angles.  The bump that Tom went to sleep with his hand on every night, even though he'd been carrying this sickening doubt inside him all this time.  He still kissed me good morning and rubbed my stomach when he came back from his run, still hugged me at night and made love to me, still told me he loved me.  But this thing had been festering in his gut for two long weeks, and I'd never known anything was wrong other than believing he was stressed over what had happened.  What _could have_ happened.  What _he thought_ happened, as it turned out.

 _Eric you sick bastard._  Deported two weeks ago and still fucking with my life.  It wasn't Tom's fault, I knew.  But I couldn't stop hearing his words and the angry, threatening way he'd said them.

_Goddammit Anna, I swear to you if what he said is true and you've been lying to me -_

I pulled the blankets up over my head and stopped thinking.

 

An hour, two hours later, I wasn't really sure how much time had passed but eventually I started sweating under all those blankets and woke up, uncomfortable and hot and queasy, throwing everything off onto the floor with a gasp of relief to get some cool air into my lungs.  I'd forgotten about our fight and dragged the nightstand away from the door without thinking about why it was there, staggering out into the hall blinking in confusion.  My foot kicked something and I looked down to find Tom sitting against the wall next to the bedroom door, just waking up himself.

It all came back and I felt sick again.

I kicked him again, for good measure and to make myself feel better.

"Ouch, dammit Anna!"

"You're in the way."

"Okay then, stop kicking me and I'll move."  He stood, grimacing as he stretched his back.  "Do you feel better?"

"After kicking you?  Yes."

"After _napping."_  He gave me a hurt look, which I ignored, continuing down the stairs without waiting for him.  I knew he'd follow, he always did.  It was one of the things I loved about him, his dogged determination to always make sure I was alright, but at the moment I was finding it annoying and smothering and claustrophobic and I wanted more than anything to just be away from him.

"Please don't follow me," I said when I got to the bottom of the stairs.  I heard him stop halfway down and turned around to look at him.  He had a confused look on his face.  "I want - "  I flailed my hands around, not sure what I was trying to say.  "I want a _day,_ okay?  One day away from you, just me, alone, thinking my own thoughts and making my own decisions without you there to make me lazy by doing it all for me.  Is that alright?  Can I do that?"  I was sounding a little bit crazed and his face was getting more and more worried the longer I ranted.

When he finally answered me, his voice sounded very small.

"Of course you can.  But - "

"No, no buts.  None.  You don't need to have any say in this.  I'll have my phone but I don't want you to call me.  Don't text me, don't GPS my location, just leave me alone, okay?"

"Anna - "

_"NO."_

I grabbed my bag from the kitchen table as I went through and left the back door standing open behind me.  I didn't know where I was going, but it felt good to be going there alone.

 

When I got back, Tom was sitting at the table eating a bowl of leftover soup.  He looked up at me, his eyes anxious, but he didn't say anything.  I put my bag down on the table and walked over to him, nudging his knee so he'd scoot back, and settled in on his lap.

His arms came up and he held me, his face buried against my neck, completely silent until I finally reached up and brushed my fingers through his hair.

"Do you want to tell me what that was all about?"

"Not really.  But you have a right to know so I will.  If you ask nicely and don't demand - and I want an apology for what you said to me."

There was a quick frown, then a look of understanding came over his face and he nodded.

"I am, sweetheart.  I'm sorry.  I just...I feel bad about doubting you, but I wasn't sure you weren't just blocking it out or something."

"Blocking what out?"

"What he said he did."

"I don't care what he said he did.  I _know_ what he did - he came in here, he knocked Eva around to get past her, he came up the stairs and when I turned around there he was.  He shut and locked the door, he grabbed me and threw me onto the bed, he made some threats and started choking me.  You came in.  The end."

He stared at me with a doubtful look, but after a minute he nodded.  "Okay.  Nothing has changed in any of the times you've told your side.  I'm sorry I didn't believe you, it's just that...he provided so many details..."  He looked sheepish and a little bit sick as he pulled his eyes away from mine.  "He knew so many things about you...about your body."

"Of course he does, idiot - do you know how many years I slept with him?  He knows more about my body than I do, there's places I can't see and he's seen them."

Tom flinched, cringing, his eyes closed tight;  I wasn't sure if if was from me calling him an idiot or from the not-too-gentle reminder that Eric had once been my significant other, that he'd known all the things there were to know about me long before Tom ever even met me.  But he was intensely uncomfortable, and the sight of him refusing to look at me gave me an indefinable bit of satisfaction.

I didn't know if it was my newly kickstarted hormones or if I was just finally ready to take control of my own life, but whichever it was, it was empowering beyond belief.

I stood up off his lap and moved away, intending to leave the kitchen, maybe go and watch some TV or get on my Kindle and read.  But that look on his face...that slightly panicked realization that he'd somehow lost control of me, that, for this moment at least, he wasn't the boss of the situation...it did something to me.

Something unexpected.

"Get up," I said quietly, holding my hand out.  "Come on.  One invitation only, come with me now or it's retracted."

He stared at my hand for a long moment before his eyes finally came up to my face.  He seemed unsure and it sent a shiver of excitement through my stomach.  I'd never really taken the initiative with him before, never led an encounter, certainly never instigated a trip upstairs.  He obviously didn't know what to do with this turn of events.

I was about to put my hand down when he reached up and took it.

 

For the first time ever, I led him by the hand up the stairs, and for the first time ever I undressed him and pushed him onto the bed, crawling over him and sitting up on his stomach to rub myself on him without letting him put himself inside me.  For the first time I slapped his hands away when he tried to touch me, giving him a warning look as I slid back and forth on his belly.  And for the first time, I made myself come without letting him do anything except watch, without touching, without participating, without speaking.

 

In the morning I felt his arm over my waist, his hand tucked under my stomach where the little bump was beginning to bulge out.  I felt queasy and hot and finally pushed his arm off me so I could get up...I barely made it to the bathroom in time before my stomach lurched and I started throwing up.  It was brutal and by the time it stopped I was exhausted and sobbing.

"Morning sickness isn't being kind, is it."

I pulled my head up from the sink, catching his reflection in the mirror;  he was leaning against the bathroom door, arms crossed in front of him, something of an amused look on his face until he saw that I was crying.  "Yeah, well...my hormones are in overdrive."

"Is _that_ what that was last night."  He came to the sink and turned on the water, rinsing it out for me before getting his hand wet and pressing it to my forehead.  "Because I think I could get used to the overdrive."

I laughed a little.  "My big dominant alpha male switching sides suddenly?  Going to be the bottom until I get so fat you can't hold my weight on top of you anymore?"

He nodded, screwing his face up like he was thinking about it.  "Sounds good to me.  I rather liked the view from where I was."

I stared at him in the mirror, suddenly sorry for being so mean to him.  He couldn't be blamed for doubting me, not when Eric was spouting lies about his worst fears.  I knew how convincing he could be...how perfectly believable no matter how farfetched the things coming from his mouth.  How he could look you straight in the eye and make you begrudgingly love him with that smile, all the while destroying you and everything that meant anything to you.  It had taken me years to become just a little bit immune to him.  I couldn't expect Tom not to be taken in by his perfectly crafted venom.

"Are we okay?" I whispered, suddenly afraid of being without him.  He nodded, pushing his mouth into my shoulder as he swayed me gently.

 _"We're okay,"_ he whispered back.

 

 

_To be continued..._

 

 


	38. Chapter 38

 

 

I'd been in the preliminary stages of labor for about a week, stopping and starting, till the panicky newness of it wore off and each twinge - instead of freaking Tom out like they had for the first few days - began meriting no more than a glance and a quick "Everything okay?"

_It's normal for a first pregnancy_ my doctor assured us.  The pamphlet Tom snatched from the desk on our way in confirmed it.  We were sent home to wait for "real" labor to start or my water to break, having sex as much as possible in an attempt to kick start one or the other, and the resting and relaxing and nonstop screwing was beginning to drive me completely nuts.  I fidgeted a little on the bed and he lifted his head to look at me, his eyes sleepy and still half closed.  "Everything okay?"

"Yup."

"The bed moved."

"It was me.  I moved."

He blinked hard for a moment and buried his face back into his pillow.  The poor guy...I'd worn him out the night before and again when I woke up early that morning.  It wasn't even that I was particularly horny - I was just so desperate to get things moving that I'd begun thinking of him as a tool for baby removal.  Fortunately he had no place else to be except in bed with me, so even though his back was aching and he groaned audibly every time I looked at him, he played his part and dutifully banged me every time I got frustrated.

Until the morning my false contractions suddenly didn't feel so false.

"Braxton-Hicks?" he asked, standing in the kitchen in his boxers and baggy tee shirt, holding a cup in one hand and the coffee pot in the other.  He was barely awake yet and I had just doubled over and sat down quickly, gasping in shock and surprise at the intensity of the vise grip that had just clutched my lower stomach.

"I don't think so," I huffed out, trying to breathe through it.  I couldn't.  He was staring at me, blinking hard.  "Nope, definitely not Braxton-Hicks."

He started nodding, looking around the kitchen, still clutching the coffee pot and cup as he moved in a circle as if searching for a place to put either one.  "Okay, so you know what to do sweetheart - do your breathing - "

"I _am_ doing my breathing."

"Good, keep doing that, and I'll go get your things."  He finally stopped circling and stared at the sink for a moment, nodding again as he put the coffee pot and cup into it and wiped his hands on his shirt.  He looked at me, and a wide grin slowly spread across his face.  "Are you ready?"

Another fierce clutching sensation had grabbed hold of my stomach and I was leaning forward, trying to rest the weight of my overextended belly on my thighs to take the pressure off.  I nodded hurriedly. "Yeah, I think you better go get my stuff."

Suddenly alert, he slapped his hands together loudly and rushed over to me, bending to kiss me on the forehead.  "We're going to have a baby," he said happily, reaching down to rub my stomach.

 

 

He drove us to the hospital himself, not trusting a cab to get us there quickly enough, even though I assured him things were still moving slowly - I think he just wanted to be in control of every aspect of it and something about being the one to get me there made him feel more boss of the situation.  I started to laugh when I thought about the look that would swallow his face if my water broke in his car.  It was so enticing that I started pushing a little, trying to make it happen...but that brought on an even more intense round of clutching contractions and I stopped that nonsense real quick.

"What the - what are you doing?" he asked, looking nervously over at me as I leaned forward, pushing in on my stomach to try to relieve the pressure.  "This is a Jaguar darling, we don't give birth in Jaguars. Okay?  Can you do that for me?"

"You need to be quiet."

"Why?  What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, I'm counting."

"Oh...oh shit, are we to that point?  How many seconds?"

"I'd know if you'd stop interrupting me. _Shut up."_

He obeyed, looking over at me so often that I started pointing at the road, trying to get him to pay more attention to driving and less to staring at me and reminding me to breathe.  I finally sat back and took a deep breath.  "About thirty seconds, give or take."

"What?!  Give or take how much?"

I shook my head, starting to sweat now.  It was happening, and it was speeding up at a frightening rate.

"Can you drive faster?"

"There's so much traffic - maybe if you just relax, concentrate on something else...there's a pamphlet in the glove compartment, you could read out loud - "

"Tom, it's a fucking Jaguar, you're always whining about how it can do all these incredible things but you're not allowed to do them because of traffic laws and speed limits.  Well guess what, babe?  You have full immunity to those laws right now."

He looked over at me, a slow grin spreading across his face.

"Hold on, sweetheart."

 

 

The progress from that point was quick, much quicker than I expected.  Apparently my long slow buildup to true labor had done an effective job of dilating my cervix and when the time came, the lengthiest part of the work was completed.  Tom stepped into the hall to make some phonecalls while I settled into our birthing suite and by the time he came back in, a doctor was pulling out an evil looking knitting needle type tool and announcing that he was going to get things going by breaking my water.  I shook my head, scooting back in the bed protesting, and Tom started patting my arm to settle me down.  "It's alright darling," he assured me, pulling my hair back and tying it into a ponytail as he spoke soothingly to me.  "Once your water's broken your labor will speed up."

"It already broke."

"What?"

"I'm sitting in a puddle, it broke while you were in the hall."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I wasn't sure, I thought I'd peed myself during a contraction."

He gave me a sympathetic look, which quickly turned to a wide smile as I pulled his hand down to my stomach and let him feel the rough contraction that was building.  The muscles across my abdomen were so taut you could have played drums on them.

"Well then," the doctor said, putting his poker down on the table by the bed.  "Looks like you've got some work to do."  He turned to speak to a midwife for a few seconds, then flashed us a smile.  "Good luck, mom and dad."

I squeezed Tom's hand, suddenly _exhilaratingly_ scared.

_Mom and dad._

It was just us and a midwife now.  I knew this was how they did things here but I still had images in my head of how deliveries were handled in the States, with a doctor and nurses and a full staff on standby, as if the entire thing were a medical emergency.  I had conditioned myself to look forward to it being this way, quiet and unpanicked, with minimal assistance...but now that there were just the three of us in the room and the pains were getting way up there on the discomfort scale, I started wishing for at least a doctor's presence.  Tom knew I was getting scared and talked to me, his face next to mine, reminding me to breathe and count and pay attention to what was happening inside.  He had taken a natural birthing class with me, had read everything he could find on childbirth, and I often heard him reciting things out loud to himself as he went around the house doing his daily routine, coaching himself so he could be a good coach for me.  And now as he squeezed my fingers to remind me he was there, I nodded and listened to the words he was speaking quietly into my ear.  I couldn't tell you now a single word that he said, but I do know that they made me feel calm and brave, and when the midwife checked me and said it was time to start pushing, I was more ready for this than I'd ever been for  _anything_ in my entire life.

 

I sat up and Tom slipped onto the bed behind me, his arms around me, bending me forward when I needed help pushing and giving me encouragement and updates on my progress with every contraction.  My labor stalled a bit an hour into the active part and he got me up out of bed, walking me around the room for a while, rubbing my back and helping me climb up onto the mattress on my hands and knees to take the pressure off my lower spine.  The midwife was impressed with his involvement and left us to it.

We finally got past the stalled stage and things immediately sped up, almost frighteningly so - but it was exciting and I was ready to be done.  Ready to be a mother, finally - not just someone carrying around a massively overgrown stomach bump that moved occasionally.  A real _mother_.  The thought was a little bit overwhelming and I started to get teary, but Tom just hugged me and held me until the next contraction began.

"Are you ready to say hello to her?" he asked, pressing his forehead to mine to help me focus on his face.  I nodded as he pulled my hands up to his mouth to kiss them.  We had seen the baby's gender on the 20-week ultrasound, but he'd known long before that that it was a girl.  Sometimes I felt like he was more in-tune to the whole process than I was and it made me a little bit jealous...but when he smiled like that, so happy and excited and full of big-kid wonder, I couldn't begrudge him the pure joy that I knew he was feeling.

He'd waited as long as I had for this part of his life to happen.

And now it was here.

 

 

Tom stationed himself next to the midwife at the foot of the bed and began a running narrative, alternately giggling with glee and going wide eyed with amazement, reaching in to touch the baby's head when it crowned, pressing down on my pelvis with his hands to help the shoulders rotate enough to squeeze through.  Two hours after I first started pushing, our baby slipped out into his hands and let out an angry little squall.  I was too tired to do much more than lay there panting, but I heard Tom make a little choking sound.  A moment later he was crying.  Not just crying - he was _sobbing,_ holding our baby in his arms and talking to her while the midwife wiped her head dry with a cloth, revealing lots of long curly light colored hair. 

I was tired but strangely, calmly elated as he brought her around and laid her on my chest, holding her in place so I could get comfortable before I started nursing her.  The absolute joy in his face as he watched me feed our daughter was almost unearthly and he scooted onto the bed next to us, his arms around us, his head laid against mine as the nurse cleaned me up and quietly left us alone.

"Oh my god, will you look at that," he finally said, quietly, twisting one of the curls on top of her head around his finger.  "We did something perfect."

 

 

After what felt like forever but in reality was just three short hours later, the baby and I were both examined and declared to be in perfect health, and our release papers were prepared and signed.  Tom took us home, driving so slowly and carefully that I couldn't resist teasing him about his poor car and how it would never live out its full potential now that there was an infant carrier permanently strapped into the back. He just smiled at me in the rear view mirror and reached over the seat to hold my hand.

 

Chris and Eva were at the house waiting for us, minus their army of kids - Eva had cooked dinner for us and was in the process of preparing more, packing several meals into the refrigerator so I wouldn't have to do any cooking for a few days.  Tom set the baby's carrier on the sofa and he and Chris hovered around it, speaking in hushed tones like they were in church.  Chris's knowledge of babies was extensive and impressive and I found myself stifling a laugh when I heard the authority in his voice as he gave Tom instructions on the proper care of infants.

"He takes it very seriously," Eva told me with a grin.  "All I do is make them, he does everything after that.'

I had the sneaking suspicion that was how Tom was going to be.  The all-attentive father, helicoptering around his children constantly, micromanaging every aspect of their lives.  I would probably have to be the one to rein him in, keep him from obsessing.  But I would worry about that later.

People began showing up, bringing bottles of champagne and good wine and bags of food from local eateries.  Before long it was a nice quiet little party in our parlour and Eva fed everyone while Tom and I snuck out to the sunroom to eat together away from the crowd, both of us exhausted but happy and content, surrounded by the soft lull of the voices of his friends - many of whom I considered my own friends now - and the tiny sounds of the baby sleeping on the sofa between us.  After a little while I got tired and took her upstairs, saying goodnight to everyone on my way through as Tom walked protectively behind me.  He snagged a bottle of champagne as we headed up the stairs.

"Was that Tom Hardy on the sofa again?" I asked as I changed into my pajamas, slowly and gingerly, my stomach muscles and lower regions far more sore and touchy than I had expected them to be now that my pain medication was beginning to wear off.  

Tom laughed, nodding as he sat on the bed with the baby, rocking her slowly.  "I think it was."

"Did he use to live in this house or something and he can't give it up?  Seems like every time we come home he's here."

"Maybe he's a ghost and this is the house he haunts."

I thought about it as I sat carefully down on the edge of the bed.  "He's a good ghost, we should keep him.  Scary enough to frighten the guests into leaving early, nonthreatening enough that I won't panic when I see him naked in the kitchen in the morning."

"Oh god.  I'll try to go down first, you have a lie in until I give the all clear."  He shushed the baby as she began to fuss, bouncing her gently against his chest, the look on his face pure adoration.  "Why don't you feed the baby and then sleep a bit."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to watch," he said with a grin, scooting in next to me.  "It's fascinating, you've got this dual purpose thing going now with various body parts, there's _food_ in there now, it's incredible."

I shook my head and sighed as I took the baby from his arms.  "Somehow I knew you were going to like that."

"What's not to like?" he murmured, pressing his lips to my ear as he let one hand move very lightly over my breast.  "The weight you just lost in your belly seems to have shifted north."  He gave me a gentle squeeze and chuckled softly as I squirmed away from his hand.

"Stop, it's far too early to start preliminary work on a sibling."  I halfheartedly pushed him away with my shoulder and he laughed.

"Have a bit of champagne with me, darling," he said brightly as he reached for the bottle and poured me the tiniest amount into a glass - barely more than a swallow.  "The doctor said it won't affect your meds or your milk if you have just a taste."

I took the glass and waited for him to pour himself one, then we clinked them together and smiled at each other.  It was one of those true, naked moments when you know without any doubt what your life and this very moment are all about.  No confusion, no misconception, no unsurety...just pure, clean truth.  I knew I loved him and that he loved me, and that the baby nestled in between us was proof of it.

"To us."

 

 

_To be continued..._

 

 


	39. Chapter 39

 

"Hello Eleira, hello baby...smile for daddy, there you go, there's my good little girl..."

Tom's voice sounded so far away, so distant, so _not here_ as he jabbered at our daughter, his face comically distorted as he got too close to the camera at his end.  Eleira swung one little fist at the Kindle, trying to touch his face, gurgling happily back at him.  Even with the black wig, she knew her daddy.  He'd only been gone for two weeks, but we missed him so much it was palpable.

I listened to him using his pet name for me to praise Eleira for smiling at him...

_My good little girl._

It didn't carry the same nerve-tingling excitement that it once did, that little grouping of words.  Words that used to belong to me, words that were spoken in the heat of passion, the frenzy of love, the tender aftermath of intimacy.  But they weren't mine anymore.  I had to share them now, and eventually, I knew, they would belong exclusively to her, with an entirely new meaning attached to them.  The love of a daddy for his daughter.

And I was surprisingly okay with it.

Things had changed between Tom and I since the baby's birth.  We had settled into a warm, cozy co-parenting vibe that suited us surprisingly well, and he found himself turning down roles, excusing himself from engagements, passing up events in favor of staying home with us.  But his biggest role, the one he was most committed to, was signed and sealed long before he ever even met me - and so the time came, and he left us for the first time since Eric had reentered our lives.  But Eric wasn't a presence anymore, and his chiseled out place in my head was quickly being filled with new things, less frightening things, things that melted soothingly into the cracks and jagged corners until nothing hurt anymore.

Eleira's first smile.

Her first night in the crib that I was beginning to think she would never sleep in.

Her first Facetime date with her father.

And now, as she squirmed in my arms in an attempt to get to him, I debated on whether I should tell him what I'd been keeping from him for the last two weeks.  I didn't want to throw off his concentration and interfere with his work, but some things just can't be kept to oneself.

The test had been positive two mornings in a row.  My doctor had confirmed it.

Tom was going to be a father again.

 

We said goodnight to him and shut off Facetime so I could put the baby to bed, then he called me back an hour later, like he always did.  As his seductive voice washed over me in a relaxing wave of gently intimate words, I closed my eyes and imagined him with me, letting him arouse me with the smooth skill I never had quite gotten used to.  Each time it was new, exciting, more intensely erotic than all the times before it, and I dissolved under the spell of his silky baritone.

"May I make you come, sweetheart?"

I hadn't realized how far gone I already was until my brain was forced to acknowledge that he'd asked me a question.  Nodding dumbly, I laughed at myself.   _He can't see you._

"Yes..."

There was a moment of silence at the other end and I knew he was getting comfortable.

"Do you have any boundaries?"

"What?"

Confused, it took me a moment to catch on.  His first words to me, on the set, so long ago now it seemed...the makeup lady, what was her name? _Janine._  Smirking at me as she knelt in front of me, painting heavy concealer on my perpetually bruised knees as this man, this actor I'd hardly heard of but that everyone else in the world seemed to know, tried his best to make me feel at ease.  Allowing me to set boundaries from day one.

"I think I'm good," I said quietly, trying not to giggle. "We're just doing a straight sex scene, is that right?"

A laugh from the other side, that cheerful, happy giggle that never failed to put a smile on my face.  "Yes, fairly straightforward."

I tried to keep it under control, but the long silence followed by more giggles from his end broke my resolve and I burst out laughing.  And then before I knew what was happening, I just as suddenly burst into tears.

"Anna, sweetheart, what's wrong?"

The concern in his voice made it worse and I almost blurted out my news;  I knew the sudden shift in my emotions was purely hormonal, and I also knew that he would never understand unless I told him.  Unfortunately there was no pamphlet to tell me how to do this.

I opted for nondisclosure.  I would be seeing him in three weeks when the production company flew Eleira and I out for a set visit.  It would keep.

"Nothing...I'm fine.  I just...I miss you so much."

"Oh, baby...I know.  I miss you too.  Both of you."

 _All three of us,_ I thought to myself.

"So...what sort of scene have you got in mind for us tonight, Mister Hiddleston?"

The mirth returned to his voice and he chuckled quietly;  I could hear his breath against the phone's mouthpiece and it sent a shiver through me.

"How about you turn on your camera and show me that famous body?"

I only had to consider it for a moment before I happily obeyed.  It wasn't quite the same body that had doubled for a shy actress in a gothic horror romance, not so terribly long ago...it was a new body, one that had healed and finally experienced passion and love, that had created and carried and nurtured life inside itself.  A body that had grown and matured and had finally found its purpose - and fulfilled my greatest dreams.

Twice.

Without shyness or shame, I switched on the camera and undressed for my husband.

 

 

 ** _The End_**  


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 8/25/2016 - THANK YOU EVERYONE THAT STUCK IT OUT WITH ME TILL THE END! Tom and Anna have finally reached their final chapter, and what a bittersweet ride it's been. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for hanging in there through thick and thin with me (and them).
> 
> Chapter 39 is the final chapter, but after I put it up tonight I realized I'd never, in all this time, shown you Tom and Anna themselves. It's time, I think...so I decided to toss in chapter 40 at the last minute as well, as a thank you to all the diehard fans...just to give you some pretty pics of the pair to look at as you say farewell.
> 
> ENJOY!

                                                       


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